


put me in a movie

by Evenbechbaesheim



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Acting, Angst, Artist!Even, Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Even makes him soft, Fluff and Angst, Good Bro!Jonas, Hollywood Dreams, House Party, Isak is a bitch, Lies, M/M, Manic Episode, Marijuana, Meet-Ugly, Mild Sexual Content, Oslo (City), Oslo Dreams?, Pansexual Character, Recreational Drug Use, Secrets, What else is new, actor!Isak, barista!isak, but we're in Norway so, filmmaker!Even, they're both amateurs so not a celebrity!au, they're both just trying their best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:51:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenbechbaesheim/pseuds/Evenbechbaesheim
Summary: Isak’shad itShit auditon after shit audition to fulfill a childish pipe dream of stardom whilst supporting himself on a measly KB cheque and living with two roommates, Isak’s just about ready to give up.Then a hot guy at a party spills a drink all over his shirt and doesn’t apologise. So now, Isak’sreally fucking had itIsak wants to be an actor, Even wants to be a director and they don’t quite get it right the first few times, but , like any good NRK drama- they can’t keep away from each other for very long.A story told through the months of the year.





	1. Part One: JULI

**Author's Note:**

> neeeewwww fic alert!
> 
> I've been working on this one for a while. I really hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Updates every Tuesday <3

 

 

put me in a movie

 

 

 

SUMMER

 

 

_ Part One: JULI _

 

“Okay, uh, _Isak_.” The woman sitting across from him at the table looked disinterested to a point of painfulness. Isak did his best not to take it to heart as she shuffled through a fat stack of paper, slipping out the one with his glossy headshot and glancing over it fleetingly. “Whenever you’re ready.” She gestured towards him vaguely, but didn’t bother looking up from the character sheet. Isak nodded. It was sad, but his life had gotten to a point where he was _used_ to being treated like shit by casting agents. It was all part of the system.

“ _I just don’t understand_ ,” he started, and thankfully, the lines he’d been pouring over as he sat on the tram on his way to the studio flowed back from his memory more or less perfectly. “ _She never took cabs anywhere. The story doesn’t add up!”_

A monotonous voice was to follow. “The witness statements we were given say otherwise. Unless you’re saying they’re lying.”

 _“They must be_!” he exclaimed. “ _I’m telling you now- Marci never took cabs alone after what happened to Lei. She didn’t trust them. If she was going anywhere, she would’ve taken the tram from right outside-”_

 _“_ Okay that’s enough.” The casting agent cut him off, and it took a lot of willpower not to yell. That was barely two lines of a whole page of script that he’d worked his ass off to memorise on the way over. But no, of course, they were fucking _done_ with him in less than a minute. Because that was just how the industry fucking worked, and it _sucked_.

“You don’t want me to read anymore?” Isak asked, exasperated, even though he already knew the answer. The woman looked up to him briefly, before shaking her head, already laying his headshot back down next to the pile of others.

“That was enough. Thanks Isak. We’ll… be in touch.”

Isak let out a long sigh. The woman didn’t bother looking up in time to see the way he rolled his eyes.

“Right. Of course. Thank you.”

It wasn’t fair, of course, but that was just they way things were, and how they would probably always be. Isak could do up to three auditions a week, all of them the same scenario. Casting directors had already seen forty other boys just like him, and usually by his turn, they weren’t interested in the slightest. His audition was more of a formality, just to keep up appearances and fill quotas. His face was shoved back down to the bottom of the pile, and the world kept on spinning and cameras kept on rolling and by the end, nothing in his life had changed. Isak got right back on the tram and headed back into town, just on time for his shift at the KB in NRK television studios. That was about as close as he’d ever gotten to being on TV.

 

 

 

**_Eskild_ **

_(13:42) Hey Issy, how was your audition?_

 

Isak groaned, tipping his head back and knocking it lightly on the wall of the tram. Once again, he had nothing positive to say. He wondered why Eskild still even bothered asking.

 

 

_Total shit. On my way to KB now, be home later. (13:43)_

 

 

Every day, as he served coffee to big-time TV executives and B list celebrates whilst his asshole manager yelled at him for fucking up the cappuccino machine or mixing up orders, Isak did his best to keep his dream at the forefront of his mind. It did make his shifts go a little quicker when he pretended like _The Barista_ was just a new part he was playing. Isak could _act_ as the perfect employee, but that didn’t settle the personal dissatisfaction he felt about his position. Still, with only high-school level qualifications, he knew that things weren’t going to get much better without a lot more hard work and maybe a small miracle.

It wasn’t even like Isak hadn’t been clever enough for college. He’d been _ridiculously_ clever in school- his friends hated it and teased him for being a nerd. Biology was his best subject, and his dad _really_ wanted him to go to some fancy college somewhere far away, maybe London or America, to study biochemistry. Isak was good enough to get in and he knew it, but there was something about his father’s acute desperation to get rid of him paired with the following mental breakdown his mother went through in third year that kept him clinging to the stupid childhood dream of becoming a famous actor. His mom had always said he was the brightest star on that stupid, middle-school drama club stage. He wanted to prove her right.

Making his dad insanely angry was just a bonus.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After work, Isak didn’t bother going straight home to _Kollektivet_. He couldn’t be bothered for the grilling questions Eskild would have about the audition, nor did he want to see the disappointment that would inevitably cross his face when Isak explained that he definitely didn’t get the part. It was agony sometimes, living with Eskild. The older boy was arguably his biggest supporter, and it made Isak feel guilty, like he was letting Eskild down personally every time he flopped a casting call.

So instead, he headed over to the boys apartment. Since finishing _Nissen,_ his friends had done the smart thing and gone to college nearby, choosing to rent an apartment between the three of them. The hours he didn’t spent at work or in his bedroom were spent there, laid out on Jonas’ sofa or Mahdi’s lumpy, ten-year-old beanbag, smoking weed and playing video games.

“Nei, I’m not going.”

“ _Isak_ , come on!” Magnus groaned, snatching the joint back from between Isak’s fingers. “You _never_ come out anymore.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is true.” Jonas laughed, re-entering the room from the kitchen, a box of beers in his arms. “I can’t remember the last time you showed your face at a party.”

Isak groaned, leaning back further into the sofa. After the piece of shit audition he’d done, paired with a six hour shift at _kaffebrenneriet_ afterwards, the last thing he wanted to do was stand around and sip beers in an overcrowded apartment whilst his friends tried to hook up with random girls. He’d grown sick of that shit in high school, but apparently, whatever deity sat above them had some kind of sadistic punishment in mind for his decision to not continue with higher education- because that seemed to be all they ever fucking did.

“You’re coming, Issy,” Mahdi told him, reaching forwards with the remote controller to shut the TV off, despite the fact that they were halfway through a fairly interesting game of _fifa_. “Eva said she’ll personally remove our balls if we don’t show up, you in tow.”

“ _Ja_ , and I really don’t think she was joking.” Magnus added. The three boys looked at Isak expectantly. Sadly, a gaping hole in the fabric of the universe did _not_ open to suck him in. Isak didn’t really have any other choice.

“Fine.” He mumbled and the boys let out a chorus of celebratory cheers. Isak folded his arms across his chest and stood up from the sofa. “But I _can’t_ promise to have fun.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You know, if you crack a smile, you might even get laid.”

Isak didn’t even have the energy to laugh at Jonas’ half-hearted attempt to engage him in conversation. They’d been at the party for an hour, but Isak hadn’t moved from his spot against the wall, sipping from the shitty red solo cop Eva had thrust into his hand. It tasted strong- like whiskey with not enough coke- but Isak figured if he was going to be miserable, he could at least be drunk and miserable.

“Getting laid is the last thing on my mind right now.”

“What about that guy over there.” Jonas pointed, albeit discreetly, across the room and Isak’s skin crawled. Okay, so maybe he still wasn’t a hundred percent confident about his sexuality. It didn’t matter that everyone _knew_ he was gay since he was outed in second year- and many probably suspected it even before that- he still got nervous when people brought it up in public. Jonas was arguably his biggest supporter (aside from maybe Eskild, who bought him a dildo as a ‘coming-out’ present and called him _baby-gay_ at every opportunity) but that didn’t stop Isak from stiffening every time he pointed out a ‘cute guy’ or someone ‘checking him out’.

The boy Jonas was pointing at was attractive enough, but he wasn’t really Isak’s type. He was probably Jonas’ height, if not a little smaller, with a lean body and a round ass stuffed into skin-tight jeans. He was _pretty_ , sure, with curly brown hair and sparkling, dark eyes, but Isak had never really gone for pretty boys. He preferred _men_ , tall and broad and bigger than him, who weren’t afraid to toss him around and didn’t care about cuddling afterwards. It had been two years since the whole outing-fiasco, but Isak still hadn’t once had an actual _boyfriend_. Unsurprisingly, it was easier just to load up _grindr_ or _tinder_ and find someone who didn’t mind a quick fuck and paid for their own cab home.

It wasn’t healthy, apparently. Eskild had scolded him often and Linn shot him worried glances and Noora was forever asking if he was being _safe_ as the carousel of random men that rolled through their front door grew exponentially. Jonas always wanted to set him up with nice, humble looking boys his age with bright smiles and innocent offers of _dinner_ or _coffee_. Ever so often, Isak would take them up on the offer- but it never went much further than that. He was actually starting to gain a bit of a reputation- not that he had the energy to care what people thought of him anymore.

Jonas was still talking, but Isak had tuned out long ago. His eyes had actually caught on someone else, just across the room.

He wasn’t Isak’s usual type. Taller than him, sure, but thin rather than built and hunky. This boy was _lanky,_ even. His legs were a mile long, wrapped in black jeans with large, expensive looking sneakers jutting out from the end. His t-shirt was white, clinging to his lean figure perfectly. His hair was blonde- Isak never usually went for _blondes_ \- but this boy just had _something_ that made it work, a black bandana tied tightly around his forehead. He was talking to some girl, laughing animatedly, and a smile tugged at the corner of Isak’s lips.

He looked like a pretentious douchebag. Isak still wanted to fuck him.

Just as he was about to point the guy out to Jonas, who seemed to know everyone at the party, a girl with short, cropped blonde hair approached the mystery boy. She was pretty, ridiculously so with bright eyes and short cropped blonde hair, tiptoeing up to kiss the corner of his mouth with a sickening smile. Isak rolled his eyes at how smug she looked- but how could he blame her? What a gorgeous (albeit tragically heterosexual) couple they made.

Isak did his best to carry on with the party after that, but it was obvious to everyone, even an absolutely _trashed_ Eva that his heart wasn’t really in it. He passed on another drink of whiskey and stuck to beers, which sat dully in the pit of his stomach and did nothing to push him anywhere near the realm of drunk. Jonas dragged the twinky boy with the pretty eyes over to the kitchen to _chat_ \- and Isak considered kissing him for all of about two seconds until he spotted the diamond-encrusted case wrapped around his shiny new IPhone . It was a stupid, silly detail, but Isak couldn’t have been more instantly turned off. It reminded him too much of all the pretty girls with their sticky lip-gloss and flicky hair he’d avoided throughout high school.

“Sorry- I’ve just gotta, uh, go to the bathroom.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. The three beers were working their way through his system pretty quickly. Also, he couldn’t stand to hear _Treyan’s_ simpering voice for much longer.

Isak was frowning down at his shoes as he made his way to the bathroom. All he wanted to do was take a piss, get out his phone, and call a cab home. Tomorrow was his first day off work in months. He could finally mope in peace with a nice, empty flat- void of distractions and prying questions about his pathetic love life and equally pathetic acting career-

Isak’s thoughts were interrupted by liquid, spreading suddenly across his chest. The assailant was staring down at him, even taller close up, mouth hung open in shock. The solo cup in his hand was dripping wet, trickling down his hand and wrist. The rest of its contents had made a nice little home all over Isak’s T-shirt, staining the fabric. Isak looked up, eye to eye with the boy he’d been staring at earlier, and a fat, angry frown spread across his face.

The boy just stared back, frozen in state of complete shock, one foot in the bathroom, one out.

“I, um- uh… did you… need some tissues?”

Isak growled.

“Oh _fuck you_.” He said, turning and storming off, away from the boy and his pretty eyes and his plush lips. _Did you need some tissues_? _What a fucking_ _asshole_ , he thought, storming past drunken guests to snatch a roll of tissue off the counter before attempting dab at his soaked t-shirt. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the boy had been drinking alcohol, so at least he didn’t stink like a drunk as well as look like one.

“Are you okay?” Treyan’s voice was clear as a bell behind him. Isak resisted the urge to give him the same response he’d given _tissue-boy_.

“Someone spilt their fucking vodka on me,” the lie slipped from his tongue easily as he dabbed at his shirt before hurrying away from Treyan, towards the exit. “I fucking stink of booze. I have to go home.”

“Oh- maybe I can ask Eva is she has something for you to borrow?”

“No, it’s fine, honestly,” Isak didn’t bother looking back at he pulled his jacket from the coatrack in the hallway, slipping it over his damp shoulders. “I’ll see you around.” He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. Treyan waved goodbye, looking more irritated than anything else to see him leaving in such a hurry.

Isak couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Tell Jonas I said goodbye.” He called, before rushing down the hallway and slipping into the elevator. From there, he left the apartment building, walking off hurriedly into the night-time.

 

 


	2. Part Two: SEPTEMBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak thinks about the boy from the party a lot. Fate intervenes.

_ AUTUMN _

 

_ Part Two: SEPTEMBER _

 

 

 

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that guy- whoever he was- from the party.

Every time Treyan harassed him over text, begging for a hook-up, Isak thought about the tall skinny boy with the expensive sneakers and the stupid, hipster bandana. He’d stalked the facebook and instagram profiles of every guest he knew from the party, searching for even just a tagged photo of him but again, he’d found no such luck. After a few weeks, Isak stopped searching. For starters, the guy had a girlfriend. Secondly, the guy was an _asshole_ , who hadn’t even properly apologised for ruining his shirt. Thirdly… well… he sort of had someone too.

Kai was nice.

Isak didn’t do _boyfriends_ , but Kai came pretty close. They’d been seeing each other more or less exclusively for about month as September rolled to an end, and Isak was surprised to say he didn’t entirely hate it. It made everyone else happy- to know he wasn’t cab hopping to random hook-ups across the city or getting on his knees in bathroom stalls. Kai was a nice, normal guy, with two years of college already behind him and almost an entire business management degree. He was handsome enough, with a soft face and round cheeks and dark, curly hair inherited from his Spanish mother. He fucked good enough and never asked Isak to top- which was even better. They went out for _coffee_ and sometimes Kai watched him play video games when he was supposed to be studying.

Things were _normal_ , and that was good enough, Isak supposed.

Nothing else in his life seemed to be going nearly as successful. His audition success rate had hit an all time personal low over the last two weeks. Everything he went out for, he either had his headshots rejected, or if he was offered a reading, it was cut short within seconds. One director had actually told him that he _wasn’t good looking enough_ for the role the second he stepped through the doors. Another had smirked and told him that he was far too pretty. Isak wasn’t sure which was worse.

One wanted him to do an over-the-top, campy, _gay_ character. Isak had rolled his eyes and walked out of the room then and there. If there was one thing he refused, it was to be a fucking stereotype. Being gay was not the antithesis to being a well-rounded, fully developed person. What was the point in playing a role that was built to fill diversity quotas with a few embarrassing catchphrases and dated assumptions of what it meant to be someone _like him_? Isak had all the respect in the world for the extravagant, flamboyant lipstick-wearing gay people who’d risked their lives just so people like him _were_ accepted (after a vigorous education in gay pride from a frighteningly angry _Eskild_ when he found himself unwantedly kicked out of the closet _)_ but that didn’t mean he wanted to be part of reducing them to _material_ so a network could make a quick buck.

He’d ranted to Eskild about the whole thing, talking about how angry he was and the fucking rampant _homophobia_ in the TV and movie business. In response, his roommate and best _guru_ had actually teared up with pride. That made Isak feel just a little bit better about his incredibly poor few weeks.

Work hadn’t helped. Isak was walking home from one of the worst shifts in his KB career with the scent of coffee radiating from his hair and his clothes and a fixed, angry frown on his face. The new manager was an asshole, who always kept him behind after his shift. Apparently, NRK had hosted an important trans-national meeting with a bunch of executives, so plenty of unnecessarily rude businessmen and antsy _PA_ ’s asking if the creamer was _gluten-free_ had taken over the store. Not only did that suck- but then his new, asshole manager had pulled him aside to scold him about moving shifts for auditions. Isak had tried to explain that their previous manager, a nice enough woman named _Karin_ made it very clear that the hours on his contract were flexible. The new manager, a burly man named _Derik_ (who Isak suspected was, at the very least, internally homophobic) told him that there was no such thing. Contracted hours were contracted hours- and if Isak wanted to keep taking shifts off at random, he would have to consider a new place of employment.

Isak kicked an empty water bottle across the ground to vent out his frustration as he made his way home through the dark streets. Kai had texted him on his break, promising to come over and visit in the evening when his presentation was over, but now, Isak wanted nothing more than to just be alone, and wallow in his own fucking disappointment.

He was halfway through a pitiful attempt at making up an excuse ( _Sorry babe, I forgot I had to go and help Magnus with his new phone. He’ll never figure out how to set it up on his own if-_ ) when a strange smell in the air caught his attention. It was a strong, gaseous scent, and Isak lifted his phone to his mouth, coughing slightly. It was dark, but he squinted, peering around for the source.

Now that he was focusing, he could hear the faint sound of spraying from nearby. Isak rounded the corner of the road he was walking on and his heart stopped.

It was the boy. The _same_ boy from the fucking party. _Tissue-boy_ , as he’d been calling him in his head for the last two months. It had been weeks since he’d thought about him- perhaps longer. But there he was, still wearing that stupid bandana as he stared up at the wall in front of him, bright green can of spray-paint leaking over his fingertips.

Isak dragged his eyes from the boy over to the art he was creating. It was the side of a building that had been derelict for months- Isak distantly remembered someone telling him it had been a plastic surgery consultation office. On the side, the boy had painted a beautiful mural of flowers, all different shapes and sizes and variations, surrounded by a glowing green. He was adding little details, leaves and stems and grass, tongue peeking out from between his lips in concentration as Isak just stood, frozen, _watching_.

It almost felt like he was intruding on something quite intimate, when the boy reached up and touched the painting gently, pink paint running down the sleeve of his hoodie. Then, as if he could sense the presence of someone else, he turned and stared Isak dead in the eyes.

Neither of them dared say a word.

Isak looked from the painting, to the boy, and back again. The boy didn’t tear his eyes way from Isak for a second. There was something in the cool blue of his eyes, pupils blown just a little wider than normal in the centre, impossibly dark, that Isak couldn’t understand. He looked like a wild animal- face caught up in an uncertain smile, a smudge of blue paint on the bottom of his chin.

“I just-” Isak’s words (not that he was convinced anything coherent was going to spill from his lips) were cut off by the roaring of a police siren, not too far away. The boy’s face changed from distant excitement to instant panic, and without a word, he dropped his can of spray paint on the floor and barged past Isak so hard that he almost tripped over, sprinting off into the night.

Isak whirled around, watching his impossibly long legs sprinting off into the dark.

“Asshole! What the fuck?!” he yelled, but it was too late. The boy was already long gone. When he ran past Isak, he’d smeared a strip of green paint onto the arm of his hoodie, and Isak swore, trying to rub it off. It didn’t help that the hoodie wasn’t even his- it was Kai’s _-_ and it wasn’t cheap. Kai would kill him- but if he got fired from KB like _Derik_ was threatening, he couldn’t be wasting money on a fucking replacement hoodie if he wanted to make rent on time.

Isak took off walking back in the direction of the kollektivet, more angry than he was when he’d started.

“Hey, stop there!”

Isak turned, suddenly face to face with two burly police officers, cans of the mystery tissue-boys spray paints gathered in their hands. They looked at Isak, and then, both their eyes lowered, to the stain on the sleeve of his hoodie. Isak swore under his breath.

 _As if my life couldn’t fucking get any worse_.

 

* * *

 

 

 

_One Week Later_

If there was one thing Isak loathed, it was _industry parties_.

Eva had been their friend since high school, but what made her a little different from the others is the fact that she actually had _made_ something of herself in the short year since the end of Nissen. She skipped college and ended up getting an internship straight out of school with a talent firm, and was now executive assistant to one of the biggest casting agents in Oslo. To repay the favour for all the nights he’d let her sob to him over skype and vomit on his hoodies at house-parties, Eva did her best to get Isak in the right places at the right times in hope to score himself an audition or even just a contact. For the most part, it worked- Isak just had one of _those faces_ people seemed to be drawn to. Where he fell short was his lack of bubbly personality. Nobody seemed to want to cast a grumpy, gay teenager for much aside from grumpy gay teenager roles. As of yet, Isak hadn’t seen one of those on screen.

Still, he went along, because it was nice of Eva to go out of her way to do these favours for him. It didn’t mean he _liked_ it, standing around some rich ladies pool sipping a cocktail waiting for people to approach him and make conversation, but it was better than sitting at home and moping. It hadn’t been the best week. Kai had been away visiting his parents in Bergen, so Isak wasn’t even getting laid, on top of the all the other weird feelings he had swirling around in his brain.

“You can always take me as your date” Eskild had winked. Isak had shook his head, still horrified at the haunting memories from the last time he’d agreed to take Eskild along to an industry parties. Certain things really _couldn’t_ be unseen, no matter how much alcohol he consumed.

“Daddy, _I_ want a cartoon!”

Isak was distracted by the voice of a small child with a shockingly pretentious British accent, and looked across the room to a small table set up that he hadn’t noticed before, littered with art supplies. A few people gathered around, distantly amused as the child pointed at the easel. Sat in front of the blank canvas was someone Isak couldn’t quite make out. However, as the crowd parted slightly and he turned, crouching down to listen to the little girls request with a wide, friendly smile, Isak’s heart stopped.

It was _him_. Graffiti boy. Obnoxiously _talented_ graffiti boy.

Isak smirked to himself. So despite all his hipster-bullshit, graffiti boy was working gig to gig drawing fucking _caricatures_ as entertainment at industry parties- because being a hipster probably didn’t contribute much in paying the bills. He’d have been lying if he said that didn’t fill him with just a little bit of satisfaction. Isak wasn’t the petty type- except for the fact that he _definitely_ _fucking_ was- so he waited around until the little girls drawing was complete, her father throwing down a few bills uncaringly onto the table, before he made his slow approach.

Graffiti boy looked bored as hell, reclined in the chair with his fingers drumming against the table, a fresh canvas sat on the easel. Isak recognised the incessant movement of his fingers as smoker’s withdrawal. _Great_. Isak thought to himself. _Enjoy the suffering_.

Just to be even more of an asshole, he stopped a random person halfway through his journey to the caricature table and, using the little charm he had, managed to procure a cigarette. The woman seemed happy enough to give it over, giggling flirtatiously before slipping open a ridiculously old-fashioned silver cigarette case. Isak was surprised that he’d successfully managed to avoid rolling his eyes- but apparently knowing what satisfaction was soon to come boosted his will power. He didn’t even really _smoke_ cigarettes, at least, not regularly. Weed had always been much more appealing.

“Uh… yeah, can I get a cartoon?” He put on his best _snooty-asshole_ accent, and caught the slight roll of graffiti boy’s eyes before he turned and locked gaze with Isak, lit cigarette dangling between his lips and a hand in his wallet, fingering a _200kr_ bill. It was tempting to start laughing- but Isak was an _actor_. He didn’t break character. “I was thinking like, I want it to be Former US President George Bush, but he’s sitting on a camel dressed as an Arab sheik with a cigar in his mouth. Only the cigar is bright pink- and behind him in the distance is a bunch of like, radioactive nuclear factories. Like the one in the Simpsons, you know?”

Even narrowed his eyes, but Isak could clearly see that he was far more amused than annoyed as the smoke lingered between them. Finally, the shoe was on the other foot, and it was Isak’s chance to get some revenge. Clearly, he respected that.

“I swear to God-”

“- _næsheim_!” A sharp voice interrupted his chance to protest. Isak looked up to see a short, irritated looking man with a receding hairline, offensive Hawaiian shirt and greasy, thick dark moustache. “I’m not paying you to sit around and sneer at customers. Don’t make me fire your ass again.”

 _Næsheim_ , which Isak took to be Graffiti Boy’s last name, gritted his teeth and glared dully at him. Isak did his best not to snicker, but the smirk on his face remained. When _Næsheim_ , turned to back to face his boss, he did his best attempt at a smile. Clearly he wasn’t as good an actor as Isak.

“Of course, Sir,” he said, a little exasperated. It was clearly enough to please his boss, who turned away and continued his conversation with a group of women. Then graffiti boy turned back to Isak, glaring, but still very amused, and lifted his pencil to the front of the canvas. “Any particular colour you want that arab sheikh outfit?”

Isak’s eyes sparkled and he exhaled smoke across the table. “Blue.” He said. “It’s my favourite.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 Isak got his drawing, and was still laughing softly at it in the corner of the garden, leaning against the side of the house as he stroked the paper gently with his finger. To be fair to _Næsheim,_ he was a pretty fucking good cartoonist. And George Bush looked _beautiful_ in his royal blue robes. Perhaps he’d give it to Jonas, and pretend it was some kind of anti-capitalist surrealism protest piece. Jonas loved shit like that.

“Ok, I get it,” that impossibly deep voice Isak hadn’t been able to stop replaying in his head appeared suddenly in his periphery, and when he turned, Næsheim appeared, that same amused smirk on his face as he tucked his hands into his black jeans. “I was an asshole that night at the plastic surgery office. _And_ when I spilt the drink on you at that apartment party. Doesn’t mean you need to make this gig any more hell than it already is.” He folded his arms across his chest.

Isak smiled innocently, taking a sip of his second, even fruiter cocktail before looking away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Næsheim raised an eyebrow, and it was frustrating how attractive Isak still found him, no matter how hard he’d been trying to convince himself he was just a pretentious asshole.

“Getting me to draw former president Bush, on a fucking camel, dressed as an Arab Sheikh, maybe?” he tilted his head. “I’ll have you know that is an _insult_ to me, as a _real_ artist.”

“A real artist? You’re a _cartoonist_!” Isak spluttered, breaking character instantly. Næsheim made a small, indignant noise of outrage, and Isak allowed himself to finally _laugh_.

“Cartoons _are_ real art! I’m a _serious_ artist I’ll have you know. I don’t just draw- I _paint_ , as you’ve seen-”

“- _Spray paint._ Illegally.”

“I _write_ and… _direct_.”

Isak frowned, disbelieving. “Direct what?” he asked. “I haven’t seen your face at any casting calls.”

Næsheim rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he leant back against the small pillar behind them. “You’re an actor?” he asked, unimpressed as Isak gave a small nod. “Figures. What’s your name?”

“Isak Valtersen.”

“Thought you looked familiar, Isak Valtersen.” He teased. “Which is it I’ve seen you in- the discount mattress commercial or are you the kid demonstrating that triple blade razor on the teleshopping channel at three AM?”

“Ok, asshole.” Isak didn’t bother hiding the slight grin that spread across his face. “Try the KB on the NRK lot. That’s the only place you’d’ve seen me.”

“A barista?” he nodded, as if it was _so obvious_. Isak frowned. “Explains why you’re so uptight. Too much caffeine. You must be having withdrawals.” He grinned teasingly. Isak glared at him.

“So you’re a doctor and a director? Dr Næsheim, was it?”

“Bech-Næsheim.” He held out a hand, which Isak accepted. “But I usually just go by Even. And yes, that’s right. I’m a man of many talents”

“Is that so?” Isak sipped his drink again, trying to ignore just how much his chest had contracted when he’d finally heard Graffiti Boy’s name. _Even_. It fit him annoying perfectly. “What have you directed?” he decided to continue with their little teasing game, hoping it would distract him from the alcohol that was making his head start to swim slightly. Even didn’t seem to notice.

“Only the greatest animated love-story ever told!” he exclaimed, waving his hands.

Isak quirked his eyebrow. “Called?”

Even suddenly looked a little less smug. “…as yet untitled.” He answered in a quiet mumble, and Isak laughed.

“ _Figures_.”

It occurred to him then, that they could probably go on like this forever. Isak had done his bit at the party, shown his face and networked a little to make Eva happy. This was the moment in the event where he’d usually slip off back home, smoke a joint with the boys or just watch TV with Eskild- but he’d chosen to go out of his way to lurk around until Even got some kind of break, just in case he’d be so inclined to come over. Then, when he _had_ , Isak’s heart had sang. He knew that wasn’t appropriate. He had a fucking _boyfriend_ , and Even was a stranger who he was sort of supposed to dislike.

Well, almost a stranger. At least they knew each other’s names now.

“ _Næsheim_ , get your ass back to that table!” the same curt voice from earlier hollered from across the pool, breaking the intense game of stares they’d transitioned into. Even knocked his head backwards against the pillar and sighed, swearing lowly under his breath.

“You’re planning on sticking around, right?” he asked. Isak hoped his blush wasn’t noticeable in the summer sun.

“Uh, yeah, probably. Networking and stuff. And- well, if I get to see you be miserable a little bit longer-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, Isak Valtersen. You can’t keep your eyes off me. it’s okay. You’re not the first.”

Isak just grinned. “Asshole. Get back to work.”

Even saluted him, and winked. He didn’t say anything else, and Isak just watched him wander back over to the table, sitting down in front of the canvas as an elderly woman started very loudly making a request for something involving her recently deceased cat which she went on to describe in incessant. Even caught eyes with him across the party, and huffed a quiet laugh. Isak smirked back, before forcing himself to turn around and look anywhere else.

Otherwise, he’d have stayed there all day.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s sort of… _avant garde_ , I guess you could say.”

“Oh really?” Isak nodded awkwardly, walking just that little bit faster towards the front of the house, where people were spilling out one by one now that evening had fallen and the schmooze-fest was over. However, the greasy, seedy looking producer-director who was apparently called _Tony Garbona_ (as if he couldn’t get any more sleazy) just upped his pace to match. Isak really didn’t want to hear any more about the porno Tony wanted him to star in, but he hadn’t been able to shake him for the last thirty minutes.

“Yeah, it’s like… the human body is art you know?” he said, eyes dragging down Isak’s body in a way that made him want to vomit. “It’s celebrating art. And baby, I’d love to celebrate you-”

“ _Well_ , that’s very nice but… uh…” Isak squeaked, looking around desperately for Eva, or anyone who could rescue him from the conversation before he ended up in a harassment lawsuit. “I actually have someone waiting for me, so-”

“-here, you should probably take my card…” fat, sausage fingers with wiry hair on the knuckles dug into the pocket of the slightly oversized grey blazer, looking around for a business card. Isak looked the other way frantically, eyes skimming the party for anyone he recognised.

“Isak! There you are. I’ve got the car, let’s go.”

Isak could’ve fallen to his knees and sucked off his fucking saviour right there in the middle of the party if _Garbona_ wouldn’t have whipped out his camera and probably started jerking off. However, when he spun around to meet the voice calling him from behind, his heart clenched in his chest.

Even grinned, and nodded for him to come over. Isak looked from Even, to Tony, and then back again. He supposed it really could’ve been much worse.

“See you.” He mumbled, before rushing off over to Even before the guy could get another word in. he all but fell into Even’s arms as one was wrapped strongly around him, and he allowed himself to be led down the driveway, away from the creep. Once they were out of eyeshot, Even removed his arm, and Isak pretended not to miss it.

“God, you owe me for rescuing you from that.” Even laughed. Isak glared at him.

“Seriously, that guy wanted me to star in his latest soft-core porn. No thank you.”

Even raised an eyebrow. “I thought actors were supposed to always say _yes_? Isn’t that the number one rule, or something?”

“That’s improv, dipshit.” Isak rolled his eyes. Even laughed, and made a show of clutching his chest tightly.

“Isak, you wound me. Need I remind you, I just saved your innocence?”

“Who says I’m innocent?”

It was flirtatious. Dangerously flirtatious, and Isak regretted it the moment he said it, thoughts flashing briefly back to Kai. His _boyfriend_. Even didn’t seem to mind, clearly, eyes lighting up as he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Please, with curls like that? What am I supposed to think? You’re an _angel_ , I’m sure of it.”

“Whatever,” Isak smiled awkwardly. “Thanks for saving me, I guess. I’ll let you get to your car, or whatever.”

“Oh, that was a lie.” Even shrugged, clearly unbothered by Isak’s sudden u-turn on their flirty banter. “I don’t have a car, I actually don’t live far from here. I walked.”

“Oh. Me too.”

Even smiled. “Good, then I’ll walk you home.”

Isak wanted to say no. He really really did, or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. But ten minutes later, he and Even were still together, strolling down the gradually darkening streets of Oslo side by side but not close enough to touch in a comfortable, evening silence. Every so often, Even would look across at him and smile. Isak couldn’t help himself. He smiled back.

“Who says I want you knowing where I live?” he asked, after psyching himself up to say _something_ for several minutes. Even laughed, hands tucked into his pockets, effortlessly cool.

“I promise, I won’t try and convince you to star in my new porno,” he teased, and Isak’s cheeks flushed a hot pink. Even winked. “That is, unless-”

“-I have a boyfriend.” Isak blurted out. Even’s smirk slipped, but only slightly. He didn’t actually look all that bothered. Isak suddenly felt silly for getting so worked up. After only a second of what was probably just confusion, Even’s bright smile was back.

“Ok.” He nodded.

Isak thought back to the first night he had seen Even. There’d certainly been a girl then- about their age, short blonde hair, very pretty. He’d been almost certain that was his girlfriend, and that what had started his unnecessary dislike in the first place. Maybe that was why Even didn’t care. But then, was joking about starring in a porno together the kind of appropriate behaviour for _anyone’s_ boyfriend? Probably not.

“So, you’re a barista.” So, they were back to _small talk_? Isak missed the flirting already, no matter how guilty he felt. Still, he nodded.

“I fucking hate it.” He admitted. “But I’m just trying to stay close to NRK in the hope I’ll get fucking discovered by some random executive when I serve him his latte. So far, no luck. I probably should’ve stuck with bio-chem instead, but oh well.”

“Bio-chem?” Even did that stupid fucking attractive eyebrow raise again, and Isak’s heart hammered inside his chest. Surely it wasn’t normal to find a _facial expression_ so fucking alluring? There had to be something wrong with him. The cocktails had worn off a few hours ago- but the feeling he got when Even looked across at him like that was far too similar to being _tipsy_. “You don’t strike me as the scientist type.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

Even grinned. “Oh really?”

 _Shit. Flirting again. Stop it_. If he wouldn’t have looked like a total psycho, Isak would’ve slapped himself on the wrist then and there. Thank god Kai was still at his parents. Isak definitely wouldn’t’ve been able to look him in the eye for a few hours after this.

“I was pretty smart at school. Biology was my best subject so my dad really wanted to me to go to college and do biochemistry, or biomedicine or, you know, anything that guarantees like, over a million kr a year but… things didn’t work out that way.”

“You wanted to be an actor instead.”

“Yep.” Isak nodded, grimacing slightly. “Which dad, of course, hates.”

“I get it.” Even shrugged. “My parents really wanted me to go to college to do something… _practical_. Business or something- that’s what they both do, anyway. All I got was half a completed film studies degree. I dropped out last year because I’m more interested in following my dream rather than waiting for a fucking certificate to tell me I’m good enough.” He looked up at the sky. Isak didn’t bother following his gaze. He was more busy staring at Even. They carried on walking down the street, turning down the road that _kollektivet_ sat on. Isak was tempted to lead Even around the block a few times, if it meant they could just wander and talk like this forever.

But that wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

“This is me.” he said, nodding to the building across the street. Even looked down from the sky and sighed, giving Isak a small smile.

“So it is.”

Isak nodded awkwardly, fumbling for his keys in his pocket, before taking a few steps back, out into the road. “I guess I’ll… see you around, uh, Even.” He said. Half of him wanted to ask for more- a hug or maybe a phone number, so they could stay in touch. But he knew that was dangerous and irresponsible. Likeliness was, he’d never even see Even again. You didn’t just _bump into_ someone three times. Maybe that was for the best.

Even just nodded back at him as Isak made his way across the street, giving an awkward wave.

“See you in the movies sometime, _angel_.” He called, before turning and disappearing into a shadowy side street.

Once he was safely out of view, Isak grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

A few days passed, and Isak was doing a really good job of _not_ thinking about Even Bech Næsheim.

It wasn’t like he’d spent the last three days searching through facebook, Instagram, twitter, snapchat- fuck he’d even tried _Jodel_. He’d even straight up _googled_ Even’s name, but the only thing he’d found was a video from Elvebakken High School- a film project from when Even was a second-year students a few years back. He’d still watched it, obviously, as Even laughed with his dark-haired friend about his new radical film idea. From the date on the video he’d concluded that Even was already in third year by the time he started first year. At least that explained how he could’ve attended and dropped out from two whole years of college when Isak would’ve only just been starting his first.

At work, every time he caught sight of blonde hair or a sketchbook, his heart skipped. He’d decided, for sure, that if he just so happened to bump into Even again, that was a sign from the universe that _something_ was going on. Isak wasn’t a huge believer in fate and destiny, but he’d found Even three times already. A fourth would be far past coincidence.

“Isak, your shift ends in ten minutes. Mind hopping back on the till until then?”

“Right, okay.” Isak nodded, taking the latex gloves he’d been using as he arranged the cakes on display off and heading over to the register, where the line of paying customers had gradually been dwindling. The girl he worked with, _Charli_ , smiled, before signing out on the till and taking his previous position. Isak took a deep breath, readying himself to face his least favourite people in the world- the general public.

“Coffee, please and thank you.” The overly arrogant looking man in a suit that probably cost more than Isak’s rent for three months hadn’t even bothered to look him in the eye as he made his demand, before he continued texting. Isak bit the inside of his cheek, hard. It was all he could do not to let out a scream.

“What kind of coffee would you like, Sir?” he asked politely, albeit through gritted teeth. “Americano? Latte? Cappuccino?”

“What do I look like, a fucking barista?” the guy replied curtly, still not looking up from his phone. “A coffee. Just a normal, fucking coffee.”

“Americano, then.” Oh, this was a bad one. But then, could he really get away with punching a customer in the face, ten minutes before the end of his shift? Probably not. “I’ll get that for you. That’s _45kr_ ”

“Fucking hell, prices these days. 45kr for a fucking coffee.” The guy huffed, opening his wallet which was stuffed with notes. He slapped a 200 down on the granite countertop and tapped his fingers, clearly agitated. Isak just took in another few deep breaths, and with a sympathetic smile, Charli tapped him on the shoulder and handed him the ready-made coffee. She really had a _lot_ more patience than he did.

“Here you are sir. And here’s your change.” Isak opened the till, scooping out only the most wrinkled and used notes he could find, his own passive aggressive revenge he used against customers he hated in particular. The guy didn’t bother saying thank you- not that Isak was expecting it. he just snatched his change and his drink and walked away. Isak hadn’t even had the chance to hand him his receipt.

He crouched down to throw it in the bin, and relished in the few, sweet seconds of solitude underneath the counter before he’d have to serve the next customer.

“Five more minutes” he told himself, looking at his watch. “Just five minutes and then you get off.”

Eyes closed, feeling a smidge more relaxed, Isak stood up straight again. He opened his eyes, ready to serve whatever asshole was standing on the other side.

“Jeez, that guy was rude as _fuck_.”

Isak opened his eyes and his mouth fell open. “ _Even_?”

Even grinned. “Hi.”

Isak just kept on opening and closing his mouth like a fucking goldfish, completely lost for words. For all he’d dreamed of running into Even again somewhere like a fucking rom-com, he hadn’t actually entertained the idea with the belief that it would _actually_ fucking happen.

“Sorry, I promise I’m not stalking you.” Even said, clearly amused by Isak’s flushed cheeks and gawking expression. “I just thought, hey, didn’t get Isak’s number… which is a shame. So I figured I’d hedge my bets and come down, hoping you were working. Which you are-”

“-I am.” Isak nodded, swallowing thickly. Even laughed.

“You are. When do you, uh, get off?”

 _Whenever you want to_. Isak bit his tongue.

“In five, but… uh, I can probably just leave now. Charli will cover me.” he looked across to his co-worker, who was giving him a very strange, but amused look. Silently, she nodded, and Isak sighed in relief before turning back to Even.

“Awesome.” He grinned, and Isak wanted to scream. That fucking _smile_. It was going to kill him. “In that case, I’ll have this cookie, and I’ll wait for you outside?”

By the time Isak made it outside to where Even was waiting, looking effortlessly cool with his back to the wall and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth like a fucking silhouette on a movie poster, he was focusing most of his mental energy on not hyperventilating. It wasn’t fucking _fair_ \- why did Even, someone who was more or less a complete stranger- take his fucking breath away more than anyone else he’d ever laid eyes on? Wasn’t he supposed to hate this fucking asshole?

“I know an awesome café that does the best cheese toasties in the city, if you’re keen?”

 _I’m very fucking keen._ Isak kept his mouth firmly closed but nodded, humming slightly in agreement. Even didn’t need more reassurance than that, just pushed himself off the wall with those ridiculously long legs and set off in large strides across the street. Isak was practically jogging to keep up.

For someone who’d lived in the city his whole life, Isak had never even seen the café Even took him to. It was down several side streets, sat humbly between a tiny florist and an abandoned old video rental store. The old lady who owned the place lit up when she saw Even, waving him over to his ‘regular’ table, and Isak immediately felt privileged to have been brought somewhere so personal. Only a few other people were in the café, sitting alone with newspapers and pastries. The entire inside was painted yellow- yellow chairs, yellow tablecloths, yellow curtains. It should’ve been hideous, but for some reason, it lit him up inside and made Even’s pretty blue eyes pop even more than they did already.

“Let me guess, cheese toasties?” The old lady asked, and Even grinned up at her.

“Mathilde, this is my new friend Isak. And we would love a cheese toasties each. And a coffee. Isak, would you like a drink?”

Isak’s nose wrinkled. “Definitely not coffee.”

“Isak works in KB.” Even explained, and _Mathilde_ raised her thin, greying eyebrows, expression disapproving. She narrowed her eyes.

“You’ve brought in a _judas_!”

“I know!” Even laughed, and Isak joined in, hoping it didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. “I’m sorry. I try to avoid chain coffee shops out of respect for you- but I couldn’t help myself. He’s very cute. Don’t you agree?”

Mathilde’s gaze, along with Even’s, shifted over to Isak. He squirmed in his seat, feeling spotlighted. They both shared amused looks. Isak just fussed with the string of his hoodie awkwardly.

“I do agree.” She eventually said. “What would you like, Isak? We’ve got tea, hot chocolate, milkshakes, water, juice?”

“Uh… I’ll go for a milkshake, please. Vanilla.”

Even’s eyes lit up as Mathilde wrote down their order and shuffled away, over to the what Isak assumed was the kitchen.

“Vanilla?” he teased. “I knew you were innocent.”

Isak blushed harder than he’d ever blushed before. “Shut up.” He looked away, smiling. “You’re such a flirt.”

“I am, self-confessed.” Even laid his (large, ridiculously fucking large) hand over his heart. “But you have a boyfriend, I know, don’t remind me. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll stop.”

“Good.” Isak replied, but he knew he was still smiling. So did Even.

It didn’t take long for them to be served. Isak moaned as the first sip of his milkshake touched his tongue and Even glared at him, before calling him a _fucking tease_. Isak just laughed- because it was impossible not to when Even was around. He apologised for his borderline pornographic reaction, just as their cheese toasties made their way over.

“It’s just so good!”

“No wonder that guy wanted you in his dirty flick.”

“Two cheese toasties!” Mathilde announced. “One completely normal,” she set Isak’s down in front of him, and he had to admit, it _did_ look incredible. “One with _Kardamomme_. Because… well, I’ve been asking myself _why_ for ten years. Still don’t think I’ve found the answer.”

“Thank you Mathilde.” Even grinned, smug, as Isak stared at his slightly browner toastie, and frowned.

“ _Kardamomme_ , really?” he asked.

“Been eating it since I was a kid.” Even replied with a shrug, scooping up the sandwich to take a large bite, before letting out a pretty suggestive moan of his own, licking his lips and chewing vigorously. “Don’t knock it until you try it, _serr._ It’s good!”

Isak’s nose wrinkled again. “It doesn’t _smell_ good.” He lifted his own toastie, taking a small bite. Even, apparently, wasn’t having any of it. He held his sandwich out towards Isak.

“Taste it!”

“Even-”

“- _taste_ it, Isak. Let me change your life.”

Isak glared at him, but he knew by now it probably would be much use. Even seemed like the kind of person who could convince someone into just about anything if he smiled wide enough. Isak leant forward and took a tiny bite. He chewed, and it tasted like a cheese toastie, just with a little… _sweetness_? Was it _spicy_? He wasn’t sure. It was certainly peculiar.

Then he swallowed, and the aftertaste hit almost immediately.

“Oh god!” he groaned. “It’s absolutely _awful_!”

“Isak, it’s really not that bad!” Even laughed. “Some would say it’s so bad- it’s _good_.”

“Nei, it’s so bad, it’s _bad_.” Isak shook his head, taking an extra heavy sip of his milkshake to wash out the taste. “Jesus, how can you eat that? You’re deranged!”

“It will grow on you! In a month’s time- maybe two- maybe even _six_ \- you’ll be sitting at home eating your _kardamomme_ toastie and saying, _hmm,_ _Even was right_.”

“ _Never_!”

Even laughed, loudly, and Isak was pretty sure he’d be able to listen to the sound forever. They ate their cheese toasties together, laughing at each other the entire time. Even asked him about his day at work- but the conversation wasn’t stilted small talk like he had with Kai. Even actually seemed somewhat interested in the shitty customers, his shitty manager, and the entire display of macaroons he’d managed to drop on the floor and silently put back on display without anyone noticing. Even said he was never going to eat at _KB_ again. Mathilde shouted how proud she was all the way from the front desk.

Even picked up the bill without even asking, and surprisingly, Isak let him. It wasn’t a _date_ , of course, because Even knew he had a boyfriend. It was just two boys- maybe even two _friends_ , getting some sandwiches and drinking milkshakes. Isak had let Even share his, because it was far too delicious to be enjoyed alone. then, they left the café, and without saying anything, just sort of wandered until they made their way down to the National Gallery.

“Instead of film, I nearly did fine art at university.” Even was saying. Isak rolled his eyes.

“Art history? All those strange naked girls and oil paintings? Not really my thing.”

“ _Ey?_ Isak, you find more ways to personally offend me every time we meet!” Even exclaimed. “The Kardamomme I can allow, because it _will_ grow on you, I’m sure. But now you don’t appreciate _fine art_? Nei- not happening. We’re going into the gallery.”

Isak whined. “But it’s _boring_ -”

“-It most certainly it _not_ boring. And I’ll prove it.”

That was how Isak found himself in the middle of the _Nasjonalmuseet,_ staring up at the most famous Norwegian painting _ever_. Even Isak knew about _The Scream_. He’d only seen it in every fucking art class he’d ever taken.

To Isak, it was just a weird painting with a bunch of squiggly lines. It didn’t really make him _feel_ anything- but Even was staring up at it as if the painting had the power to unlock every secret in his heart and soul, spilling words and feelings and emotions out from his chest and all over the floor until they were wading neck deep through _Even_ , every inch of him, surrounding them. Even was looking at the painting the same way Isak later realised he looked at _Even._

“You can’t say you hate art and then see something so beautiful, Isak.” He said quietly, and it felt strangely intimate. Isak didn’t know what to say.

“Why is he screaming?” he settled on asking. Even shrugged.

“There’s different interpretations of Edvark Munch’s vision. For me? I think it’s about… _sensation_ , you know? _Feeling_ something.” He pointed, and for the first time, Isak _saw_. “Look at the way the lines are… it’s like you can _hear_ the sound of him screaming, even thought it’s just a still image. The colours jump out at you. For me… it’s not so much about Munch himself. It’s his feelings… his anxiety, turmoil, whatever- reaching out to the person on the other side of the painting. It’s not just supposed to be some random guy screaming on a bridge-”

“-it’s _you_.” Isak finished. Even turned to look at him slowly, and his small, wistful smile spread into a full on beam.

“It’s me. Or- whoever it is looking at the painting, yeah.” He nodded. “Now you get it. You see what I see.”

The silence that stretched between them was cut short by the shrill ring of Isak’s phone. He’d never wanted more than to smash the stupid thing, but the moment was over. Even had turned his attention back to the painting, giving Isak his privacy. Isak frowned when he looked down at Eva’s face, filing the screen.

 _This better fucking be good_.

“Hi Eva?” he asked, trying his best not to sound quite so irritated at the interruption.

“ _Isak! I’ve got some great news_! _I have an audition that you’d be perfect for, next Thursday, four o’clock.”_

“Audition? For what?”

“ _It’s a big name movie- but I can’t give away too much. There’s a few small speaking parts up for grabs, and I’ve managed to land you an audition for one you’d be fucking perfect for. You in?_ ”

“Am I _in?_ Of course I’m fucking _in!_ A movie? Are you serious?” Isak spluttered, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with excitement. It had been a _long_ time since he’d auditioned for a fucking movie. Let alone a _speaking part._

“ _Deadly_! I’ll email you the script later! Now I’ve got to go- Mr. Jan is calling me! Talk to you later.”

“ _Takk_ , Eva, seriously! I love you more than Jonas.”

“Ha-ha, I won’t tell him. Catch you later Isak.”

“Bye.”

Once the phone call was over, Even re-approached him.

“Boyfriend?” He nodded at the phone, eyebrow raised in question. Just hearing the word come out of Even’s mouth sounded wrong after the moment they had shared. Isak’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he shook his head.

“Uh, no- just a friend. I’ve got an audition for a speaking part in a movie!” it didn’t matter what relationship-based guilt he felt in that moment. When the excitement spread across Even’s face, Isak couldn’t help but mirror it. Even seemed just as happy as he felt, and no matter what- that meant _something_.

“This could be your _big_ _break_!” Even exclaimed. Isak laughed, excited.

“It could!”

“I knew I’d see you in the movies sometime.”

“You might!”

“We should go. To the movies, that is.” Even stopped bouncing on the soles of his feet and stood still, hands tucked in his front pockets, staring at Isak intently. “You know… now that we’re _friends_ ”

Isak nodded. “Yeah,” he shrugged, hoping he looked as nonchalant as he was trying to come across. “That could be chill.”

 _Now that we’re friends_. It echoed in his head for the rest of the day. It echoed as they left the gallery. It echoed as they walked all the way home, Even leaving him at his door with his phone number scrawled on the back of the museum brochure, a small version of _The Scream_ on the other side. Isak couldn’t wait to stick it up on his bedroom wall. Maybe beside the photo of him and Kai taken at the last _Kollektivet_ house party.

Now that they were _friends_ , of course.

 

 


	3. Part Three: OKTOBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an audition, a movie, a visit to the science museum. Isak falls a little bit. Then, a shock.

Part Three: _Oktober_

 

 

“Are you nervous?”

Isak froze. _Is it that fucking obvious_? he thought to himself, before adamantly shaking his head. The man on the other side of the table and the two girls flanking him didn’t look like they believed it for a second. Isak bit his lip. Great, so now he couldn’t even _lie_ successfully? What the fuck made him think he could _act_ , let alone be in a movie?

“I’m ready.” He settled on answering. It wasn’t a yes. It certainly wasn’t a no.

The man stared at him for another few seconds over the rim of a bright red pair of glasses, still speculating. Then, after piercing silence, he nodded, gesturing vaguely for Isak to start. The girl beside him adjusted the camera, and when the red light began to blink, Isak took a single, clear breath.

_“You should’ve seen her face-”_

“-that’ll be enough.”

Isak stiffened, mouth still open, eyes wide. The man on the other side of the table was staring right back at him, smirking, smug. Neither of the girls wanted to look him in the eye. The one on his left turned back to the camera, stopping the recording.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, I can do it again if you’d-”

“Sorry, Mr Valtersen,” the man sighed, leaning back into his chair casually, as if he didn’t have Isak’s fragile hopes and dreams held between his fist. “You’re just not what we’re looking for.”

“If you let me do the lines, I can show you-”

“-you’re blonde. I never pictured a blonde in this part. Sorry kid.”

Isak was _fuming_. He wanted to take the script and throw it in the man’s face, but he knew that wouldn’t achieve anything, and, worse, would probably get Eva into shit. He acted as graceful as possible, thanking each of the faces behind the desk before exiting the room, fists clenched by his sides. There were a few more boys his age awaiting outside, all looking at him expectantly. Isak wanted to scream at all of them to _fuck off_ \- but he’d been in their shoes, too many times before. Sitting outside audition rooms, waiting to hear laughter or gasps from inside. Sizing up the competition- was he _happy_ , did he look _confident_ , was he _devastated?_ These were all valid questions and helped you gauge your own chances at landing the role. Isak didn’t know how many years at a fancy, private drama school could’ve trained him to hide the disappointment written all over his face, but he certainly knew that whatever raw talent it was that he had wasn’t enough.

Usually, a bad audition like that could be enough to send Isak into a foul mood for the rest of the night. He’d snap at Kai and ignore Eva’s texts and Jonas’ calls, barely make input on Eskild’s rambling stories. He’d eat whatever the fuck Linn bothered to cook or order takeout with the tiny bit of pay-check money he had left over and then mooch of to bed, pouting for the rest of the evening- sometimes the rest of the week. The moping periods were becoming longer and longer as time went on. It was only so many times someone could tell you that your dream was moot, after all.

But this time, when Isak left the building and started to walk home, his disappointment was distracted by his phone, vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, preparing himself form the onslaught of _how was your audition?_ text messages from his nearest and dearest, but was surprised instead to see Even’s name on the front screen.

 

 

**_EVEN_ **

_(14:35) Are you feeling action or romance tonight?_

_(14:35) Personally, I vote for romance. I’m a sucker for_

_something sappy._

 

 

Isak clutched the phone to his chest like a swooning teenage girl and for once, allowed the fat smile to blossom across his face. The guilt followed immediately, of course, and he had to remind himself continually that it was _not_ , in fact, a date- because he had a boyfriend and Even was just his friend. That was all they were and all they’d ever be. But it still didn’t stop him from feeling butterflies tickling the lining of his stomach.

 

 

_Action movie all the way (14:37)_

_If there isn’t five explosions and a car crash in the_

_first half an hour, it isn’t my kind of movie. (14:38)_

 

_(14:41) Fine, but I want you to know that on personal level…_

_I am seriously offended._

* * *

 

 

Isak’s stomach continued to twist and wrap itself into knots as he turned the corner, hurrying down the street to the only movie theatre in the city- if not the whole country- that still showed films on reel. That was one of seven interesting facts Even had texted him about their date-that-wasn’t-a-date. Despite his enthusiasm, there was still a niggling feeling of doubt in the back of Isak’s mind about the whole thing. He could picture it already- showing up to the movie theatre and standing around for ten minutes, ten then turning into twenty, twenty turning into an hour. Even knew he was in a relationship- so why go to so much trouble to _actually_ take him out? Unless the whole thing was an elaborate attempt at revenge for the petty jab Isak had taken at the party-

When he approached the theatre, Isak’s wild speculation was abruptly put to rest. Even was already there, one hand tucked neatly into the pocket of his dark ripped jeans, cigarette tucked behind his eat, heavy black jacket covering a neat white button down, hair coiffed, smirk lazy. Isak actually squirmed under his intense gaze, suddenly feeling entirely underdressed in dark-wash jeans and one of his nicer hoodies over a grey shirt.

“So, action movie? I can’t believe I’m even _agreeing_ to this, Valtersen.”

That was enough to shake the stiffness from Isak’s bones as his entire mind dissolved, melted by Even’s easy confidence. It wasn’t normal that one person could make him feel so entirely _not-_ on-edge with just a few snarky words and a smile. They bantered back and forth easily as they wandered into the theatre, Even not hesitating to pay for their tickets and Isak shoving his wallet away, forcing Even to let him buy the popcorn.

“Salty or sweet?”

“Well, I bet you’re a _sweet_ popcorn loser- but I have to put my foot down on this issue and insist on salty.”

Isak’s eyes widened. “You like salty popcorn?”

“Sorry,” Even grimaced. “Is that a _deal breaker_ in this friendship?”

Isak shook his head. “I’m just shocked. I’ve never met another person who shares my affinity for salty popcorn before!”

“It’s _much_ better than sweet. Far less sickly and the sugar doesn’t get all stuck in your teeth-”

“-that’s _exactly_ what I always say!”

“I’m always robbed of my salted popcorn dreams at the movies.” Even laughed as Isak handed over the money to the disinterested cashier. “Sonja only eats sweet.”

“Oh yeah,” Isak smiled, taking the popcorn off the counter and turning to leave, Even in tow. “Who’s that? Your friend?”

Even’s smile faltered slightly. “It’s complicated.” He said, dismissively. Isak narrowed his eyes, before giving a short, hesitant laugh.

He asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh shit- theatre 3 is upstairs.” Was Even’s only response, pointing in the direction of the staircase. “We better get there soon, otherwise we’re going to miss the previews!”  


 

* * *

 

 

Isak was covering his eyes with one hand, doing his best not to make eye contact with a very smug, but simultaneously very _done_ Even, sat next to him with their shared popcorn in his lap, alternating between grimacing at the slapdash dialogue and laughing Isak’s blushing, embarrassed expression.

“In my defence…” Isak mumbled, more into his sleeve than to Even. “I didn’t bother watching the trailer. I just picked it at random.”

“This is so awful,” Even marvelled, smile bright and gleaming in the darkness of the theatre. He shook his head, shoulder shaking with quiet laugher. “I think this this is _the_ most awful film I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen _Sharknado 5._ ”

Isak groaned, slouching down further in his seat as if it could swallow him whole and deposit him somewhere else, outside of the situation. “I’ll make it up to you-”

“-I _fucking_ hope so. This is _so_ awful.”

“You said that already.”

“They had a racist joke in the first ten minutes. It wasn’t even _subtle_ , Isak-”

“-let’s leave.” Isak shook his head, just as a particularly poorly constructed car chase resulted into an unsatisfying explosion, lighting up the room around them. “We aren’t the first people to walk out so, if we’re quiet-”

“-ja, I don’t think that Chinese lady was into the five-minute long _egg-fried-rice_ gag.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Isak repeated, laughing quietly as he and Even edged their way out of the theatre. It was selfish, but Isak was sort of glad the movie had been absolute trash. Even didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d be willing to engage in casual conversation whilst watching something he cared about. At least this way, wandering out of the theatre with half a tub of popcorn and two mostly-full drinks, they had more time to talk to each other. Isak just found everything Even said to be so _fucking_ interesting. It was like he had a tiny book of random-facts-about-the-universe tucked into the back of his beautiful brain.

“What do you suggest we do now then, since my idea was _so_ terrible?” Isak asked as they loitered outside the front of the theatre, traffic racing around them. Even looked at him and smiled through a mouthful of popcorn, making Isak roll his eyes.

“You’re right. This _was_ all your idea. But I’m fairly certain you said something about making it up to me, so-”

“-alright, alright,” Isak cut Even off before the situation could feel any _more_ like a fucking rom-com. The last thing he needed was Even’s pretty, smug smirk and suggestive, flirtatious banter leading them back to his apartment. It made Isak’s heart ache with guilt knowing that if Even _was_ to try it on with him, he’d have a fucking very hard time saying no. The whole evening was doing nothing but making him put his actual relationship into perspective. “I have an idea.” He said, and surprisingly enough, it wasn’t a lie. Isak had managed to come up with the _most_ unsexy place he could think of, and thankfully, it was still open for another forty minutes. “Follow me.”

“If it’s another, slightly less-terrible action movie, I’m going to have to seriously reconsider our friendship.”

Isak rolled his eyes before spinning around, starting off down the street with Even following close behind. “I was right about you. You _are_ an asshole.”

Even just grinned, ridiculously long legs matching and excelling past Isak’s stride easily. “You like it though.” He said. Isak just hoped his blush wasn’t too noticeable. Because Even was right.

He _did_ like it.

 

* * *

 

 

“This Science Museum? Isak Valtersen are you going to give me a _lecture_?” Even flirted as they made their way through the empty museum. Not many people attended after sundown (Isak being the sole exclusion) and the guard at the now-closed ticket booth was eager to remind them they didn’t have much longer until the museum closed.

Isak could deal with that. He ignored Even’s teasing and lead them up to the exhibit that was probably his favourite in the whole building. It was the same exhibit his mother used to take him to when he was a child, whenever her and _pappa_ argued and they were both looking for an excuse to get out of the house. When she got sick, the museum visits stopped, but Isak had taken it upon himself in adulthood to go back every now and then to the _pre-historic_ section to marvel at the fossils and re-constructed dinosaurs.

“You’re secretly a nerd, Isak. I knew it.”

“Please.” Isak scoffed as they made their way towards the main figurehead of the exhibit, the ‘life-size’ T-Rex skeleton. It used to terrify him as a child to imagine a creature of such immense size and power. Now, Isak was enthralled by the possibility of pre-historic life. If he had gone through and studied science at college, he probably wouldn’t have been opposed to taking a few extra-curricular modules in archaeology, or pre-historic sciences. “You took me to an art museum on our first-” he cut himself off before the word _date_ could be applied, but the damage was already done. He’d seen the way Even’s face stiffened slightly, eyebrow quirking. “-outing… ” It was a weak cover, but it would have to do. Isak just had to hope Even felt as awkward as he did, despite his cool and collected demeanour. “I figured why not return the favour?”

“You liked it.” he smiled, and Isak relaxed instantly. “You pretended not to at first, but admit it, I caught you. You like art now.”

“I have a _new-found appreciation_ for it.” Isak was reluctant to admit, but it was worth it to watch the happy smile blossom across Even’s face. He folded his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t say _like_.”

Even’s smile didn’t waver. “Sure, Isak. I taught you about _The Scream_ \- does this mean you’re going to show me some cool fossils or something? You know, for cinematic parallels sake-”

“-you’re _such_ a film nerd.” Isak laughed, and their voices echoed in the empty room. “Life isn’t a movie, Even. This was just the only place I figured we could get into for free at this time of night.”

“Wow, so thoughtful.” Even teased back, fingers dancing over the glass-covered exhibits, tiny, miraculous fossils held preciously underneath. “I will give it to you- science is pretty cool. Almost as cool as art.”

“ _Almost_?” Isak spluttered. “Are you serious? Science is like, the _coolest_ subject ever. Without science we’d be savages.”

“Without _art_ we’d be savages.” Even corrected him, and Isak had to wrack his brains for a second trying to remember _why_ he liked someone so pretentious and self-righteous. Even was _such_ a hipster- and Isak had always fucking despised hipsters. “Art is a true reflection of humanity, Isak. Without Art, what separates us from the animals?”

“Scientific breakthrough, for one.” Isak crossed the space between them bravely, prodding Even in the chest gently. “Without science creating fire and farming and _survival_ , we wouldn’t be any different from animals in the wild. Art just came after, to make things a little more bearable in the universe.”

“See, that’s where you’re missing the point Isak.” Even’s voice lowered then, surprisingly soft. Isak realised only then how close they were to each other- Even’s warm breath ghosting across his face just slightly, his heaving chest almost level with Isak’s own. _Fuck_ , he’d forgotten how tall Even was in the days since they’d last seen each other. It was oddly comforting, to be dwarfed, for once, considering he was so used to towering over all his friends. “There’s no use arguing which one is better. Science and art are essentially the same thing, when you think about it.”

Isak wrinkled his nose. “How?”

“Simple,” Even shrugged, as if it was obvious. “It’s just like the fossils.” He tapped the glass gently with one finger, drawing Isak’s attention thankfully away from the beacon of blue that was his eyes and back to the exhibit. “Millions of years sat in the dirt, slowly developing and making an imprint on the world around them. Then, after discovery, we sit and we look at them and we make up a story that explains them. How is that any different than _The Scream?_ Hours of emotion and turmoil sat in _Edvark Munsch’s_ mind, slowly developing until it made its imprint on canvas. Then, when the world brought light to it, for hundreds of years fellow artists and students and _people_ , just like you and me, will sit and look and try to make up a story that explains what it all means.”

A silence fell between them as Isak felt all the breath from his body be yanked out by every word that spilled from Even’s lips. It was impossible to even respond- Even just looked so fucking _passionate_ as he spoke; hands gesticulating wildly, eyebrows raised, gaze focused on nothing in particular. After he was done, he stilled, taking one calming breath before he once again lifted his eyes to meet Isak’s.

“You know what I mean?” he asked. Isak for sure knew what he meant. He just didn’t quite have the words nor the courage to let Even know. “It’s like… I don’t know. Not everything has to have meaning. Everything is a miracle when it comes down to it. science, art-”

“-Stop talking.”

Even frowned, and Isak debated quite how appropriate would be to punch himself in the face for cutting him off so abruptly. “Sorry, I was rambling, wasn’t I?”

“-No, sorry!” Isak bit his lip, still holding Even’s stare. “I just… everything you say… it’s- you’re amazing, you know that, right? The way your mind works is fucking amazing and everything you just said touched my fucking soul.”

Even let out a soft laugh at that, so Isak considered himself redeemed, and let out the shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. “Well thanks, I guess. You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

Isak wasn’t sure if Even had leant forwards first or if he had, but somewhere within the whole exchange they’d moved even closer together, bodies now only inches apart. Even dipped his head and Isak didn’t turn away- didn’t even have the faintest call of _no, stop, guilt_ from the back of his mind. He didn’t for a second consider leaning outside of the kiss Even was about to drop on his lips- because, in that moment, he wanted it more than anything in the whole entire world.

Suddenly, Isak was a seventeen-year-old boy all over again, stuck in the closet and seconds away from making out with the hot boy at the party. It felt like the build up to his first and last kiss, all wrapped into one. Isak was pretty sure that after this moment, he could fucking get hit by a bus and die with a smile on his face.

“-museum’s closed, kids. Please make your way out.”

The gruff voice from the doorway startled them both- and Isak jumped at least a foot away from Even instantly. The security guard leant in the archway with an exasperated, disinterested glare as he watched the two of them shuffle out of the exhibit awkwardly, following them all the way down to the exit before wishing them both a good night. Even and Isak just nodded- neither saying a word to each other.

Isak didn’t even want to look at Even, because he knew if he did, all the guilt and regret he hadn’t yet felt would come tumbling in at once, hitting him like a freight train. Still, it would probably be doubly as awkward if he didn’t lift his head and make eye contact before mumbling a goodbye, so he took a brave, shaking breath, before looking up to meet Even’s gaze.

He looked a little panicked, but a lot _less_ panicked than Isak was considerably feeling. Even gave him a small smile, hands tucked into his pockets, rocking back and forth on the heels of his overpriced sneakers.

“I guess I’ll see you around then?” he said. Isak nodded.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll text you.” Isak knew the correct and appropriate behaviour would be to cut all contact with Even entirely following this exact moment, but he knew deep down, in his heart of hearts that is probably wouldn’t be possible. Not after the moment they had just shared. There was no denying it- they had _almost kissed_! Isak had almost kissed a boy that certainly wasn’t his boyfriend.

That meant something- whether he liked it or not.

“You better.” Even smiled- _that smile_ that put the fucking sun to shame. “This still hasn’t entirely made up for the _awful_ movie you forced me to sit through, you know.”

And just like that, the tension dissipated. Isak allowed himself to laugh, tucking his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, taking a few steps away.

“No, I’ve done all I can. Next time’s all you. I’ve proved myself useless in planning outings, so.”

“Maybe next time we’ll just stick to cheese toasties and kardamomme?” Even asked. Isak nodded.

“Cheese toasties and kardammome sounds good to me. I’ll see you around, Even.”

Isak didn’t bother hiding his grin when he turned around and set off down the street, heading back home to _Kollektivet_. Not that it grew ten times the size when he heard Even call from behind him, words slightly mumbled from behind the cigarette between his lips-

“See you around, _angel_.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Spellbound._ If Isak had to pick a word to describe the way he felt about Even, that would be it. it had been a week since their almost-kiss at the end of their almost-date, and the butterflies in his stomach hadn’t dissipated. Isak couldn’t sit there and pretend they were _just friends_ anymore. Clearly, they were destined for something much greater, together.

Isak felt it, and he was almost certain Even felt it too. There was just something in the sparkle behind Even’s eye when he walked into _KB_ for the second time, ordering a Danish pastry and a black coffee before slipping _200kr_ in the tip jar with a wink. There was electricity that radiated between them when they spoke on the phone- even when they fucking _texted_ , and Isak had found himself on two separate occasions in the last week ignore Kai’s texts in favour of keeping up rapid fire conversation with Even.

Sat on the floor of Even’s cosy, cluttered apartment with _Kardamomme_ cheese toasties (he’d relented, and let Even force the spice all over his meal. The second time around, he had to admit, wasn’t _quite_ as disgusting) and a neat little glass-blown weed pipe Even had dug out of his wardrobe between them, Isak could safely say he hadn’t felt quite so content since- well- _ever_. There was nothing that matched this feeling of _stability_ he held in Even’s presence. He wasn’t thinking about how much he hated his job when Even was showing up randomly and leaving generous tips. He wasn’t mulling over his disastrous attempt at an acting career when he had Even on the phone every night- talking about a thousand different characters for a thousand different screenplays he’d toyed with in his head that would fit Isak _perfectly_. He didn’t think about college, and all the could’ve-been’s and should’ve-tried’s he’d usually fret over in the hours between two am and sunrise when he couldn’t sleep, Kai snoring next to him, or (more often over the last week or so) an empty pillow as company.

It occurred to Isak in that moment, just as Even laughed, coughing up smoke over his sandwich, that he hadn’t seen his boyfriend in a week.

He hadn’t even _missed_ him. Not once had he thought about kissing a single pair of lips that weren’t pink and chapped and plush with a neat cupids bow at the top. Not once had he thought about running his fingers through hair that wasn’t blonde and silken, or running his palms up a chest that was anything but pale and toned and probably- judging by the exposed skin of Even’s arms and his neck- ridden with adorable moles and freckles and perfect imperfections.

Isak took his phone out of his pocket, still a little buzzed, and contemplated ending it all right there and then, with a simple text. It couldn’t be too hard- just a simple: _sorry, I don’t think this is working out. It’s not you, it’s me. We tried. Trying is all you can do_.

Kai would probably be angry, but selfishly, Isak didn’t care. He didn’t want Kai. He wanted _Even_.

He was staring at Even through glassy, weed-glazed eyes as he tore into what was left of his sandwich, phone and text abandoned. How easy would it be to just lean forwards now and press their lips together, the way they _should’ve been_ , back at the science museum? Isak didn’t think he’d have to do much work- just maybe sit forwards slightly, lean in. Even would certainly catch his drift and do the rest of the work. He’d seemed keen enough before.

Isak had barely inched forwards across the hardwood floor when the door of Even’s apartment suddenly unlocked, opening slowly. Even bolted upright, suddenly looking startled and anxious rather than lax and sleepily satisfied. Isak frowned. As far as he knew- this was _Even’s_ place- so why the fuck were several voices making themselves known in the hallway, unannounced?

“Shit,” Even muttered to himself, setting the pipe back down on the floor and sprinkling a little beer from his mostly-empty bottle over it to dampen the burning weed. “I forgot, uh, I invited some people over for a few beers.” He stood up, dusting his hands off on his jeans as four people made their way into the room, two boys and two girls. “You’re welcome to stay.” He looked down where Isak was but somehow managed to avoid looking _at_ him, guilt flashing behind his eyes that was quickly masked by faux-excitement when the people began to greet him.

“Uh, guys this is my friend _Isak_.” He gestured over as Isak climbed to his feet, shaking hands with the two boys and the first girl, all total strangers. They were mumbling their names but he wasn’t paying attention. Isak was instead staring at the other girl who he _did_ recognise- pretty and petite with short, cropped blonde hair like a model he couldn’t remember the name of. She wasn’t looking at him, no- she was _beaming_ up at Even, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling him close.

“And, uh- Isak, this is Sonja,” Even said, just as she tiptoed up to kiss his cheek, and for Isak, the penny finally fucking dropped, along with his heart, straight into his stomach. “My _girlfriend_.”

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take more than twenty minutes for Isak to quickly and politely make his excuses before bolting from Even’s apartment without so much as making eye contact with him. _My girlfriend_ \- it kept ringing in his ears over and over and over, and for a few seconds sat on a half-empty tram, Isak wanted to cry.

 _Don’t be stupid_ he scolded himself. _Even is just your friend._

The thought wasn’t particularly comforting. More than anything, Isak felt the fool. He’d been so sure that Even had feelings for him- he’d _felt_ it in the way Even’s eyes danced when they locked with his and the teasing, endearing smirk that sat on his face constantly when they were in each other’s presence. Isak had been the one doubting- the one trying to supress his response to Even’s easy charisma and flirting until he was sure.

That was the thing. He had been _so sure_ after the museum, so ready to dump his fucking _boyfriend_ and dive into Even’s arms right there on that wooden floor. All for what? To be awkwardly pushed away when it became apparent that all these _feelings_ were so very fucking one sided?

Isak wanted to scream, but he contained it, marching past Eskild and heading straight into his room, jumping down onto the bed and groaning, loudly into his pillow. _Fuck Even_ , he thought to himself. _With his fucking pretty eyes and perfect smile. Of course he didn’t see anything in me_.

Isak was interrupted in his disparaging thoughts by a knock at the door and a familiar voice calling from the other side.

“ _Isak?”_ it was, of course, Eskild. “Not to sound like a nag, but you stormed in here looking like someone had kicked your puppy. Is everything okay? Can I come in?”

Isak huffed. Deep down, he knew he was so very lucky to have someone as supportive as Eskild in his life, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he could trust himself _not_ to burst into tears the moment they locked eyes.

“Come in.” he mumbled, before burying his head back into the pillow, listening to the quiet sound of Eskild’s footsteps against the floor, quietly wishing they were Even’s. Eventually, the bed shifted as Eskild climbed in it, and Isak rolled onto his back, allowing his flatmate some space. At least this way, he didn’t have to look at Eskild, content on just staring up at the ceiling, trying to forget all about Even’s stupid, perfect face.

“What’s wrong, Isak?” Eskild asked. “Did you and Kai fight? Will I have to cut his pretty hair off in his sleep?”

Isak scoffed. “Not quite.” He said. “I just… let’s say I have this friend…”

“Right, is this the same friend who, at seventeen, thought he might have been slightly more interested in boys than he was in girls and wanted my advice on how to deal with those feelings?”

Isak bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah.” He nodded, and Eskild, of course, understood. “Same friend.”

“What’s up with him now?” Eskild smiled. Isak didn’t smile back.

“He- uh… he met this guy. This guy who at first really pissed him off at a party but… then they bumped into each other again and- well, actually the second time he annoyed him too. But the _third_ time, they actually got talking and the guy walked him all the way home even though my friend told him he had a boyfriend-”

“-I’m very happy for this friend. First he came out and now he’s got a boyfriend. Progress.” Eskild teased. Isak glared at him.

“Yeah, whatever. The guy was fine with it and they started like… hanging out more and they went to the movies-”

“-like on a date?”

“ _No-_ not a date. My friend has a boyfriend, remember! It was definitely _not_ a date. Even if he _thought_ the guy liked him he… they were just hanging out. But the movie sucked so they went down to the science museum instead and looked at fossils and then… my friend… he thought the guy was going to kiss him, but they got interrupted. And then… _my friend_ , he, uh, he started thinking a lot about his boyfriend and this new guy and how maybe… he liked the new guy instead and the new guy liked him, because he was always really flirty- but not in a pushy way, like, it was _cute_ , easy flirting, you know? They just _clicked_. And then they uh… they hung out today and my friend… he was thinking about making a move but then the door went and these people came in and...” he sighed, finally turning and looking Eskild, who seemed to be on the edge of his seat, expression a mix of confusion and excitement, “one of them… she… she was the guys girlfriend.”

Eskild’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Yeah. _Oh_.” Isak repeated, looking down. A long stretch of silence sat between the two, Eskild looking at Isak, Isak staring at the bedsheets. “So…?” he eventually worked up the courage to ask. “What do you think my friend should do.”

Eskild pressed his lips into a tense, thin line. “ _Well_ ,” he said, after a pregnant pause. “In my experience… guys don’t really _break-up_ with their girlfriends for other boys. And if your friend has a relationship that they are happy being in, it makes sense to stay and be happy rather than lose it and potentially get hurt. I mean if you’re so sure this boy does have feelings for you-”

“-for my friend.”

Eskild glared at him. “Sure Isak, for your imaginary friend- if you think it’s worth the risk of losing Kai and that it really could be something than yes, of course, do what makes you happy but…” he stopped, looking up to meet Isak’s eyes. His voice softened. “I don’t think it sounds like your friend and this guy are meant to be if he’s already with somebody else and never thought to mention it.”

Isak sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “Me either.”

 

 


	4. Part Four: NOVEMBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter comes and Isak tries really hard just to be Even's friend. Jonas gives some half-decent advice. Kai isn't happy at all.

_ WINTER _

__

 

 

_ Part Four:  NOVEMBER _

__

 

Just because he didn’t see a future where and Even could be romantically involved- it didn’t mean Isak was ready to just cut him off completely. It had been one month, three weeks and six days since the almost-kiss at the museum. It had been one month, two weeks, and five days since the day Isak had met _Sonja_ , and for just a little while, the whole world had collapsed in on itself.

Isak _tried_ to keep Even away. He didn’t respond to his texts, didn’t pick up his calls, even _ran_ down the street one day when he spotted him at the corner, puffing on a cigarette, talking on the phone. Isak avoided the party Eva got him in on- just in case Even would be there, sat behind that table with his precious pencils and a canvas, ready to sketch his way back into Isak’s fucking heart.

It wasn’t fair, but life wasn’t fair. Isak had come to learn that the hard way- especially with his chosen career path. He and Even just _weren’t_ meant to be- and even if he _did_ cave after two weeks of radio silence and accept Even’s offer to hang out again, it didn’t mean that there was anything _non-platonic_ ever going to happen between them.

Isak wasn’t going to get his heart bruised ( _bruised,_ certainly not _broken_ ) a second time. He didn’t need Even’s attention in a romantic way- they were perfectly fine as friends. They lounged around Even’s apartment or _Kolletivet_ smoking weed and watching movies, playing _fifa_ or simply just _chatting_ about life and work and acting and writing. Isak avoided the worried looks Eskild shot him across the table every time Even stayed for dinner, or (occasionally) when Even stayed the night, crashed out on their sofa because Isak really wasn’t going to entertain the thought of waking in the morning, tangled up in his soft, thin arms.

They were friends. Isak felt like he had to remind every single person he’d introduced Even to of the fact. _No, this is not my new boyfriend. Yes, I’m still with Kai. Yes, we’re just friends_.

The boys (Jonas, Magnus, Mahdi) were having none of it. All they ever wanted to talk about was _Even_ \- when was _Even_ next coming over? Had _Even_ broken up with his girlfriend yet? Did _Even_ have any more of that _Lemon Haze Kush_? When were he and Even just going to bite the bullet and-

“Isak?”

Isak was startled from his tangled thoughts by a voice beside him. He peeled opened his eyes, squinting as his vision cleared before remembering- oh _yeah_ , Kai had stayed over.

“Morning.” He mumbled. It was hard not to notice the way Kai was looking at him, laid on his side with what felt like miles stretching between them. Isak couldn’t sit on the fucking couch with Even without their arms brushing, or their knees touching. It was an easy, nice, _friendly_ , intimacy.

He and Kai hadn’t been intimate in weeks, if you discounted empty, soulless fucking.

Isak wasn’t sure what it was about Even that rubbed Kai so far the wrong way, but there was an intense dislike between the two. Even liked to feign innocence and pretend that it was entirely one-sided, but Isak had caught some of the burning glares shot into the back of Kai’s head whenever he intruded on one of their hang out sessions, sure to cross the room and give Isak an unnecessarily firm kiss in greeting. Isak noticed he only did it when Even was around- and whenever it was just the two of them, it felt like Kai couldn’t even bear touching him unless they were having sex.

Things hadn’t been great between them, but Isak was reluctant to leave the relationship. Him having Kai was security- it was his number one defence against Eskild, or the boys or even _Linn_ , when she voiced her opinion on the way Even was staring at him the day she’d materialised outside of her bedroom and sat to watch a movie with them. He framed Kai and hung him out for everyone to see, screaming: _Me and Even are just friends. I have a boyfriend, here, see!_ Kai was the perfect beard, all dramatic irony be damned. Without that, Isak wasn’t sure if he really had much of a leg to stand on when it came to denying the feelings he was trying so hard to suppress himself.

“I’ve got to go home.” Kai said beside him, and it took Isak a few seconds to remember he’d even been talking. “It’s mamma’s birthday.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Isak swore. It was the latest in a list of milestones he’d forgotten, the most important being their three-month anniversary, only a week or so ago. He’d woken up after a night of smoking and gaming in Even’s apartment, cringing as he heard Sonja’s voice from the kitchen, making his head throb. Then he’d looked at his texts and groaned, because Kai had send him a long, heartfelt message that ended with the phrase ‘now I’m outside your apartment door. Let me in?’. There were no words that could describe the intense dread and guilt Isak felt as he texted back- _shit, sorry, I’m not at home. I’m at Even’s. Be home soon. Happy anniversary._

Kai had texted back a simple _OK_ , and when Isak got home, a small bouquet of flowers had been abandoned on the kitchen table feeling sorry for themselves and Kai was nowhere to be seen. Eskild had been leant against the counter, sipping from a mug of tea with poorly concealed pity in his eyes. Isak had just sulked off into his bedroom and gone straight back to sleep.

“Tell her I said happy birthday.” He told Kai, watching as he slipped back into his clothes from the night before like an anonymous one-night-stand and headed for the door.

“See you.” He huffed. Isak didn’t reply, instead rolling over and squeezing his eyes closed.

He desperately wished that things could just be easy. Of course, he knew he and Even spent a ridiculous amount of time together for two boys who were supposedly ‘just friends’. His _actual_ friends weren’t stupid- and they certainly weren’t _inventing_ the small looks and gentle touches that they were both equally as guilty of. Isak just didn’t want to hear it. if Even wanted him- _really_ wanted him in the way everyone was _so sure_ that did, he wouldn’t still have a girlfriend.

Things weren’t going to just _fall_ into place that easily. Even and Sonja had been together since they started _High School_. How the fuck was Isak supposed to compete with that kind of longevity when the only thing he and Even had in common was how they liked their cheese toasties (Even was right, _kardamomme_ had, irritatingly, grown on him) and the fact that they both wanted to work in the film industry?

“You’re blind, bro.” Jonas exhaled smoke, laid out on Isak’s bed. A few years ago, the image of Jonas in his bed with his eyes bloodshot and sleepy, t-shirt riding up his stomach slightly giving a glimpse of soft, tanned skin, would have Isak all hot under the collar. Things had changed quickly during the last half of high school. Isak ditched his silly crush because it caused nothing but trouble. And now, there was also the pretty defining factor that he couldn’t imagine anything attractive about anyone that wasn’t six foot three with silken blonde hair and pretty blue eyes.

“I can see just fine, _bro_.”

Jonas turned to face him and laughed, exhaling weed over his fact. “You and Even are destiny, I’m telling you. And I know you like him, so don’t give me that bullshit.”

Isak sighed, accepting the joint as it was passed into his fumbling fingers. “I’m way too high for this conversation.” He said. Jonas rolled his eyes.

“You really need to get your shit together.” He said. If there was one thing Isak could discredit Jonas on, it would have to be his shocking lack of tact. “What are you going to do about Kai?”

Isak looked away, eyes lingering on the small photo at his bedside. It was he and Kai, taken a few weeks after they first started hooking up by Eskild, cuddling in the living room couch. Kai had randomly got it printed and bought him a frame as a present, because he was thoughtful like that. At the time, Isak had loved it- just another reminder that he was in a _real_ , secure relationship. Now, it just felt like Kai’s eyes were constantly watching over him every night he touched himself with someone else’s name on his lips.

“I really don’t know.” He sighed. Jonas reached over and patted his chest with the back of his hand. It was a little awkward, but a nice gesture. Isak just wished it made him feel even a little better about the whole situation.

Nothing more was said on it for the rest of the evening. Jonas kept his thoughts to himself and they smoked through the rest of the weed until Eskild came home and choked his way into the room, complaining about the neighbours and his ‘sensitive throat’ before forcing them to open a window. Isak fell asleep mid-rant, and when he woke up, Jonas was still beside him, snoring peacefully.

 

* * *

 

 

“Even, can you fucking sit down so we can watch the movie?”

“I can’t do that.” Even shook his head, voice catching as he inhaled sharply on his cigarette. He was stood in the centre of Isak’s room, and had been pacing obnoxiously for the last twenty minutes whilst Isak watched. “I need inspiration to strike me. This writers block is fucking mind-numbing.” He pressed his palm against his brow, bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly. Isak rolled his eyes.

“Well I don’t think you’re going to get inspiration from staring at my bedroom wall, Even.”

“Yeah, these shit memes and photoshopped women aren’t really doing it for me.” Even smirked at him, before walking over to the window to toss his cigarette outside. “Why do you even have that? I thought you were, like, a hundred and fifty percent gay?”

“I put it up when I moved in to convince everyone in the house, not that they gave a fuck, that I was straight.” Isak huffed, rolling his eyes. “Surprisingly, it didn’t work. Especially when I brought a guy home.”

“Classic.” Even laughed. “You’re such a cliché sometimes Isak. I can’t wait to write about you.”

It was an oddly intimate, personal comment. Isak blushed slightly, before firing up his well-practiced avoidance tactics.

“Can we go back to the movie now?” he asked. Even shook his head.

“First of all, _The Get Down_ is a TV series. Second of all, Baz Luhrmann’s genius is making me feel inferior. I haven’t added more than a page to my script in two weeks, Isak. Do you know how painful that is for a writer?”

“You’re such a baby.” Isak laughed, closing the laptop. “Carry on searching for inspiration, I’m going to get something to eat.”

Even followed him anyway, because not-so-secretly, they didn’t like being apart for even more than a few minutes when they knew they could just _be together_. Eskild had left the radio playing when he’d left for work and Even turned it up, head bopping to the beat of a shitty pop song Isak didn’t know the name of.

“Is this inspiring?” he asked with a smirk, routing through the fridge for a snack. Even groaned, loudly, and when Isak turned back around with a tub of olives he was leant forwards over the kitchen counter. Isak was _not_ proud at the way his eyes shot straight to Even’s ass- but in his defence, it was _there_ , and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Maybe I’ll go back to art,” Even was oblivious to his creeping, and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Maybe a painting. That will take my mind off it. I’ll probably buy some new acrylics.”

Isak didn’t get the chance to answer because he heard the click of the front door opening. He frowned. Eskild wasn’t due back for another few hours and he’d _kind of_ been looking forward to spending some time with Even on his own. Whenever Eskild was around, it was inevitable that Even would be stolen away. He was just _that_ fucking magnetic. Everyone wanted a slice- Isak included.

“Isak? Are you here?”

 _Shit_. Isak knew it wasn’t normal to feel this irritated at your boyfriend interrupting your menial conversation about art with your best friend, but internally, he was furious when Kai stepped into the kitchen, twirling the spare key Eskild kept hidden in the plant around his finger.

“Oh, hi.” Isak squeaked, feeling guilty, as if Kai had walked in on them kissing or something worse. It couldn’t have been more innocent- the two boys stood at opposite ends of the kitchen, Isak eating olives out the jar and Even pouting, face unashamedly stony now that Kai had entered the room. Still, it felt like an intrusion on a moment that was very much private, and the music playing over the shitty radio speakers only punctuated the awkwardness of the silence in the room.

“I texted but uh, you didn’t reply.” Kai said. Isak felt around his pockets for his phone, but came up short.

“I think it’s in the, uh- the bedroom.” Even filled in. Isak wasn’t sure if he was genuinely trying to be helpful, or just waiting to rouse a reaction out of Kai by mentioning _the bedroom_ and making things even more awkward. If it was the latter, it was certainly successful. Kai gripped the spare keys in a tight fist and avoided looking even in Even’s direction at all. Isak cleared his throat.

“We were watching a movie. Sorry- I must’ve left it on silent.”

“Well _actually_ ,” Even smirked. “It’s a TV series.”

“Thank you, film-nerd.” Isak forced a laugh, but shot Even a pointed glare. Even’s expression remained as neutral and innocent as ever, and despite the circumstances, Isak could feel himself getting caught up staring into his electric blue eyes.

“I knocked as well.” Kai said quietly.

Isak pointed to the radio. “We, uh- we had music on. It’s kind of loud. Sorry, again.”

“It’s cool.” Kai said, but unsurprisingly, it felt very _not-cool_. Even stood up a little straighter, rubbing the back of his neck in that awkward way he always did when situations grew tense. Isak hated that he knew that. He hated a lot of the things he loved about Even. It was very frustrating.

“I have to go.” He said. “I’ve got that thing, you know?” he looked at Isak, who nodded stiffly.

“Yeah. That thing.” He repeated. “See you later.”

Even smiled. “See you Isak.” He nodded, still looking a little too smug for Isak’s liking, one hand tucked in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Kai.” He turned to Isak’s boyfriend, and his tone was just an inch more confrontational. Isak watched as Kai pressed his lips into a thin line before nodding, just as strained.

 Even slinked out the room, and Isak stood in the tense silence as he heard him wandering around the apartment, gathering his things from Isak’s room, lighting up another cigarette, slipping on his shoes and then finally, walking out of the door. Kai hadn’t stopped staring at him, and Isak felt trapped in his gaze.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, idiotically. Kai let out a long sigh and rubbed his hands through his hair.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Isak.”

“ _What_?” Isak threw his hands up. “How am I an asshole? What have I done to you?”

“I fucking call you all morning- I text you asking to come over- I stand outside your front door for ten minutes pounding my fists and you don’t fucking answer? Then I finally make my way inside and find that what- you’re hanging out with the one dude in your whole group of friends who I can’t _stand-_ ”

“-You and Even not getting along like a pair of bratty kids is nothing to do with me!”

“Like _fuck_ it isn’t.” Kai sneered. “He hates me because I’ve got the one thing he doesn’t.”

It was strange, but Isak didn’t feel angry. Kai was angry- that was obvious by the flush on his cheek and the shaking of his balled up little fists and the hot intensity in his rich brown eyes. But for once Isak didn’t feel a single speck of anger.

“You don’t _have_ me, Kai.” He settled on semantics instead, hoping to avoid the argument. Kai huffed.

“Maybe not anymore.”

“People don’t _own_ people.” Isak folded his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry for not answering your calls. We were watching _The Get-_ ”

“Isak don’t you understand?” Kai shouted. “I don’t _care_ what the fuck you and Even are doing. I _care_ about the fact that _my boyfriend_ would rather spend time with another guy who isn’t _me_.”

“You don’t get like this when I hang out with Jonas!” Isak retorted. “Or- or _Magnus_. Or _Eskild_. Or _Mahdi_ , or-”

“-because _THEY ARE NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU_!”

At this outburst, Isak paused, letting the words sink in before letting out a slow, shaky breath. Of course- Kai’s accusation had affected him like a punch in the gut, making his hands shake and his knees go weak. But he couldn’t let Kai know that. He had to keep it in. “Even is not-”

“-Don’t _bullshit_ me, Isak.” Kai wasn’t shouting anymore, but Isak would honestly have preferred it if he still was. Nothing was worse than this- quiet, low growls of shaking, controlled anger. The tension wasn’t just going to _dissipate_ if Isak said he was sorry and let Kai do him against the kitchen counter to get his frustration out. Something told Isak that the turning point they were inevitably heading towards was suddenly imminent. It wasn’t exactly a crime- forgetting to respond to texts in favour of Even’s dreamy analysis over the top of Netflix shows- but it was, seemingly, the straw that had finally broken the old camel’s back.

“We’re just friends, Kai.” Isak mumbled. Kai just gave out a short, scathing laugh.

“Isak, I’m not fucking stupid. Do you not think that I can see how fucking gone you two are for each other? Do you not even think how much it _hurts_ when I walk in here and see you two making eyes at each other across the kitchen, or fucking cuddled up on the couch smoking a bowl, or laid in bed watching Netflix or _whatever_ else it is you two do together?” He sputtered, and it was like Isak had pulled the pin on a tightly wound grenade, and now Kai was encompassing them both in an isolated, devastating explosion. “You fucking like him Isak. You can deny it all you want but I know the truth.”

“So _what_ then?” Isak sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “What is it you want me to do Kai? I can’t _not_ have friends because you’re insecure.”

Kai laughed again at that, this time piercing and bitter. He shook his head, still smiling, but Isak could see the pain in his eyes. Fuck, he could _feel_ it, stabbing into his chest in short, sparse pains like a bed of acupuncture needles.

“Do you love me, Isak?” he asked, and Isak’s stomach twisted. That was the one question he’d been asking himself since the day he and Even almost kissed, if not before. “Answer me that. Do you really, _really_ love me?”

It would be so easy to lie. Isak could just say yes, and they can go on how they were- distant and bitter, prone to outbursts and petty arguments, but _together_. Isak still had his excuse intact for whenever his friends wanted to quiz him about Even and Kai would have what he wanted- _Isak_ , to fuck or fight or do as he pleased with.

Isak was a bullshitter by trade, but he didn’t think he was _that_ good of a liar.

“No.” he told the truth, and Kai accepted it with a tight nod. He took a few steps towards him and Isak tensed, frightened for a second that his boyfriend- if that was even what they were anymore- was going to hit him, or worse- try and kiss him. But Kai didn’t do any of that. He just reached behind Isak and dropped the spare keys in the change-pot Linn had made and painted when Eskild dragged her to a pottery class. They made an audible clatter against the coins inside, and Isak flinched, eyes meeting Kai’s across the small space between them.

“That’s it then.” Kai said quietly. “God, Isak, if you didn’t cheat on me with Even, I’ll never understand why the fuck not.” He walked away, towards the door, as Isak watched in stunned silence. “Clearly the two of you are just so perfect together, you may as well just _be_ together.”

Isak didn’t have anything to say to that. “I’m sorry.” He settled on instead. Kai nodded.

“I’m sorry too. Goodbye Isak.”

Isak swallowed. “Goodbye Kai.” And then Kai left. And then, once again, Isak was completely alone. part of him wanted to run into the bedroom, grab his phone, and call Even. Part of him wanted to run into the bedroom, grab his phone, and delete Even’s number. But Isak was feeling vulnerable and just a little bit sad- so he did what he always did when he felt vulnerable, and maybe more than just a little bit sad.

He ran into the bedroom, grabbed his phone, and called Jonas.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Fy faen_ dude.”

“Yup.” Isak nodded, laid out against Jonas’ soft, dark sheets. The took another pull from the blunt between his lips, allowing the smoke to flow through his nose and throat until he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Fy _faen_. Like the song.”

Jonas didn’t bother fake-laughing at his shitty attempt at a joke. He just turned onto his side and watched him smoke, gaze piercing.

“Just go ahead and ask, man.” Isak huffed. he didn’t have the time or the energy for one of Jonas’ staring contests. He always lost anyway. Jonas had this weird way of making him want to confess his innermost thoughts and feelings with a single look. Jonas took the joint from between his fingers.

“Are you sad?”

That had not been the question Isak was expecting. After relaying the conversation-turned-argument-turned-breakup down to every excruciating detail, he was expecting a Spanish inquisitions worth of questions on _what exactly his feelings for Even were_. He was not expecting for Jonas to turn around and ask him how he was feeling about himself.

But Jonas was a good friend like that.

“I guess.” Isak sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “A little but… like… I think I prepared myself for it a while ago. it was a long time coming. Kai and I just… weren’t right for each other.”

“Uh, _ja_ ,” Jonas laughed, smoke flowing from his mouth. “That and you’re head over fucking heels for Even.”

“Oh my God, shut _up_ ,” Isak laughed, rubbing his hands over his face. “Even is with Sonja. His long term girlfriend who he loves very much-”

“-huh, _sure_.”

Isak glared at his best friend. “Even isn’t interested in me like that. We’re friends- and yeah, maybe Kai was right. Maybe I do have like… a tiny, minuscule thing for him but… it’s totally one way. That’s the way it is. I just have to grit my teeth and bear it, I guess.”

Jonas didn’t have a clever retort for that, but even if he did, Isak suspected that he would’ve kept it to himself anyway. Things were still a little strange- and he _did_ feel just that little bit sad, so Jonas was content to lay there with him quietly, passing the joint back and forth until it was burnt out. From there, Isak declined his offer to stay and headed home. For once, he wanted to be ambushed by Eskild at the door or quizzed about his love-life by Linn. It would be nice, to get everything off his chest before laying in that familiar bed that was just starting to smell like Even from the amount of time he spent lounging on it- and fall asleep, saying goodbye to this fucking awful day.

However, when Isak arrived home the apartment was empty. A small note pinned to the fridge told him enough- Eskild had taken Linn out for drinks and ‘boy watching’. Isak huffed and poured himself a glass of water. It was annoying- now that Jonas wasn’t there to distract him with weed and ‘friendly’ cuddling, plus no Eskild to pester him or Linn to listen, he actually did feel a little bit lonely.

Isak walked into his room and the first thing he laid eyes on was the framed photo of Kai and himself, happy smiling with Kai’s hand at his waist and Isak’s face tucked into his neck. Well. Perhaps it hadn’t been all bad between them.

Isak was crying before he realised he was crying. One tear slipped, splashing against his smiling face behind the glass. He put the photo back down and furiously wiped the underneath of his eyes. He sat down on the bed, staring at the window, and he felt a pang in his chest when he noticed that Even had left his cigarettes behind.

Then, like an omen, his phone started ringing. Isak fumbled in his pocket, and Even’s stupidly attractive face attempting to be _ugly_ filled the screen. He had half a mind to let the call ring out, instead confiding himself to his own lonely sadness- but that was sort of exactly what he’d promised Jonas he _wouldn’t_ be doing. The last thing he needed was more time to wallow.

“Even... what’s up?”

“ _You sound sad. Are you okay?”_ that was enough to kill Isak. Even could tell, simply from his tone of his fucking voice that he was feeling down. Isak bit down on his lip, hard.

“I’m fine.” He lied.

“ _Nei, you’re not fine. What happened? Did Kai say something?_ ”

“No, uh…” _Fuck you_ , Isak screamed in his head. _Fuck you for knowing me so well and always saying the right thing._ “…we actually- we broke up. After you left.”

Isak held his breath as he waited for Even’s reaction. A not-so-hidden part of him wanted quite badly for Even to sound pleased. But that was silly, and childish and far-fetched. _Even has Sonja_ , he reminded himself for the thousandth time that day. _Even has Sonja. You don’t have Even_.

 _“I’m coming over_.”

“Even you don’t have to-”

“- _see you in fifteen_.”

The phone hung up before Isak could say anything else. He sat on his bed, more than a little dumbfounded, and dropped the phone onto his soft blue sheets. Even was _coming over?_ He sprang to his feet, shoving the random clothes from his cluttered bed and kicking the dirty plates he’d been hoarding underneath. That gave him just enough time to rush to the kitchen and down a pint of water nervously before dashing into the bathroom to check his hair wasn’t too much of a mess and his eyes weren’t rimmed red from a deadly combination of crying and weed.

And then the doorbell rang.

Isak forgot to care about looking desperate as he ran over to the door, throwing it open before falling into Even’s arms. Thankfully, he was only pulled closer into Even’s firm chest, wrapped up in a devastating hug that squeezed fresh tears from his eyes and took his breath away. Even was just so fucking soft, and warm and familiar and without Kai, suddenly it felt as if there was no barrier for their intimacy. Even didn’t speak, but he didn’t let go either, just moved gently with Isak until they were into the hallway, kicking the door shut from behind them. Then, he held Isak tighter, and rubbed his hands up and down his back soothingly.

“It’s okay. I’m so sorry Isak.”

“Don’t be.” Isak mumbled, before giving out a pathetic sniff. Begrudgingly, he pulled himself out of Even’s embrace and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m being dumb. Kai and I haven’t been working for a long time. I knew I wanted to break up I guess I just…”

“ _Is_ , he was still a big part of your life.” Even sighed, pushing Isak’s hair out of his eyes. “You’re still allowed to be sad.”

“It was so strange.” Isak said quietly. “I came back here after hanging out with Jonas and I actually felt okay. And then it was like… the apartment was so quiet and empty. I just felt alone.”

Even’s hand fell from his hair down to his shoulder. He gave a surprisingly firm squeeze, and stared into Isak’s eyes intensely. “Look at me.” he said, so Isak did, Even’s blue eyes blurred slightly from behind the tears that stung his own. “You’re not alone, Isak. You’ve got me.”

In that moment, Isak felt the time around them slow down. He wasn’t crying anymore, tears stuck in limbo between his bottom eyelashes and his flushed cheeks. Even’s hand, burning away at the skin of his shoulder, his gaze intense. Neither looked away. Isak didn’t think he’d ever be able to look away. Even really was just that captivating.

“Do you want to go to your room?” Even whispered, and Isak felt a blush radiate across his cheeks. It was an innocent enough question. Of course, as his friend, Even wanted to comfort him. They always hung out in Isak’s room- beside each other on the bed, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel each other’s comforting warmth. Just the usual Isak-and-Even-who-are-just-friends bullshit. So wordlessly, Isak nodded, and allowed Even to steer him into his room. They sat down together on the bed, Even with his back to the headboard, Isak facing him, legs crossed. His knee brushed Even’s thigh just slightly. Neither moved away.

“Are you feeling better now?” Even asked, eyes darting between Isak and the photo on the nightstand. Isak sighed, before reaching around and laying it down so his and Kai’s happy expressions couldn’t make the situation any more tense. He nodded.

“I’m good, I think. I just needed some time to process everything.” He rubbed a hand through his hair and sniffed. Thankfully, he didn’t feel like crying anymore. “It’s over for me and Kai. It’s been over for a long time.”

“Why do you think that is?” Even asked, and Isak stiffened slightly, not daring to look up.

“Reasons.” He mumbled. Even laughed softly.

“What kind of reasons?”

Bravely, Isak looked up at Even. He took it all in- the way he was leaning forwards of the headboard slightly, the poorly masked excitement in his eyes, slight smile on his lip and the way his hands were fidgeting, playing with the pansexual-flag-colour wristband that he always wore on his left wrist. Even was nervous- _excited_ \- but nervous. Isak had known him long enough and well enough to be able to tell that.

“Because.” He said, swallowing thickly. “I like someone else.”

Even leant even further forwards. Suddenly, Isak was very aware how close they were.

“You do?” Even asked. Isak nodded.

“I do.”

There was a moment where they both sat frozen in silent eye contact. Then, slowly and hesitantly Even reached forwards and placed his hand on Isak’s knee. Isak didn’t move to stop him, so Even took that as a sign to lean closer, shifting forwards on the bed and swimming into Isak’s personal space. Then, their faces were only inches apart. Then, Even was looking down from his eyes to his lips and back up again and Isak could feel himself falling, the same way he’d fallen in that museum before they got interrupted and the same time he’d fallen the first time Even invited him over- only this time, the apartment was empty and there would _be_ no interruptions. He could have everything he’d ever wanted, right in that moment, just the way he wanted it. Just the way Even wanted it too.

The moment Isak felt Even’s lips press against his, he sprang away, almost to the other end of the bed. Even stiffened, eyes open.

“Isak?”

“No.” Isak shook his head, trying to hold back from crying all over again like a pathetic child. “No, Even I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

“So it isn’t me?”

“Huh?”

“The person you like?” Even looked so fucking dejected and crushed, Isak wanted to rush over and wipe the look off his perfect face. “It isn’t me. It’s someone else.”

“No, I-”

“-It’s okay Isak.” Even scooted back up the bed, leant against the headboard, looking a little dumbfounded and more than a little bit sad, staring down into the bedsheets. “It’s fine, I just read the situation completely wrong, I shouldn’t have just assumed that-”

“-it’s you!” Isak interrupted him. Even lifted his eyes so they met again. “Of course it’s you, Even. Fucking hell- who else would it be?” despite the tension in the air, he spluttered a shaky laugh. “It’s always been you. Everyone knew that. _Kai_ knew that.”

“So why did you stop?” Even asked. “When I tried to kiss you- you moved away.”

“ _Because_.” Isak sighed. “What’s the point if we’re just going to pretend it never happened, just like we did after the museum? You’re with Sonja, Even. And spare me the bullshit about how you’ll leave her eventually- because I know guys like you don’t just leave their girlfriends for other boys, okay?”

When he dared look back at Even after his mini-rant, he wasn’t expecting to be met with such a shocked expression. Even’s eyes were wide, wider than Isak had ever seen them, mouth hung open slightly. Then, despite everything, he _laughed_.

“Isak, have you lost your fucking _mind_?”

Isak frowned. “What do you mean by _that_?”

“Is, come _on_ ,” he said, tone suddenly fond. He crawled up the bed so he and Isak were practically nose-to-nose again, and cradled Isak’s face between two giant hands. “You must’ve known. It’s always been _you_ that I want. I’ve wanted you for _months_ \- since I first met you! I just kept fucking it up- and then I thought you just wanted to be _friends_? This whole time, ever since the party- ever since I first laid eyes on this pretty face, I have wanted you. I promise- _faen_ , I’ve wanted you so bad.”

Isak searched Even’s face with his eyes, looking for all the tell-tale signs that he was a dirty little liar. Surprisingly, he didn’t find any.

“You’re serious?” he asked, allowing himself to be hopeful even for a second, as Even grinned and nodded. “Wait-” Isak frowned. “If you wanted me so bad, then why are you still with Sonja?”

“Why were you still with Kai?”

“Oh.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Even mimicked him, playfully, before leaning forwards even further so their foreheads touched. He didn’t push for more, leaving the ball entirely in Isak’s court. He had two ways to go about this. But there was only one that mattered.

Isak leant up and pressed his lips against Even’s, thankful to be met with an enthusiastic response. Even’s hand migrated down from his face to rest on his neck and the other sunk it’s fingers into his hair, scratching gently.

“Fucking hell Isak,” he pulled back for barely a second to blow a whisper across Isak’s lips before peppering kisses across his cheek and down to the juncture of his throat. “I’ve been waiting so long to do this- you have no idea.”

“Oh, yeah?” Isak asked, long past pathetic attempts to try and be sexy. He’d never felt heat like the touch of Even on his skin until now. Every time he did this with Kai it was so easy to slip into old routines- exaggerated pornstar moans and nails against skin but with _Even_ , there was no need to fake it. Isak’s mouth fell open and he laid back on the bed, Even settling easily on top of him. “What is it you want to do?” he asked, still a little nervous despite the electricity between them. There was still a small part of him, locked away in the back of his head that made him fear rejection constantly. Thankfully, Even didn’t look like he was thinking of leaving anytime soon.

“I want to do anything you want to do, baby,” Even said and Isak’s heart promptly melted. “Anything you want, Isak. Just say the word and I’ll stop-”

“No,” Isak shook his head, reaching up to wrap his arms around the back of Even’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “I don’t want you to stop. I want to do everything with you.”

“Perfect.” Even dove back in, moving his hands down to pull at the hem of Isak’s t-shirt, hiking it up to his chest and stroking his thumbs across the strip of revealed skin, careful and soft. “Because I want to do everything with you too.” He pulled away from Isak’s lips (at first to his dismay) and instead kissed down his neck to his torso, smattering kisses across Isak’s abs and down lower. If all the kissing and whispered sweet nothings hadn’t done enough to get Isak going- this certainly did and he suddenly felt his pants get a little tighter and his heart stuttered along faster.

“Wait-” he gasped, and Even pulled away.

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up, suddenly concerned. “Are you okay? Did I do something-”

Isak shook his head and sat up, before stripping his t-shirt off. “-I just need you to promise me something.” He said, deadly serious. Even didn’t break eye contact, thumb still stroking away, making little circles around Isak’s hipbone.

“Anything.”

“You and Sonja.” Isak said quietly, and even the mention of her name made his stomach turn. “You’re done. Over. Completely finished.”

“We’re through.” Even swore. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll talk to her and tell her we’re through. She won’t be surprised. Our relationship was hardly perfect either.”

“Okay. Good.”

Even was still a little hesitant. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “We can wait.”

Isak shifted forwards so he was more or less in Even’s lap, and wrapped his arms tightly around the back of his shoulders. He placed a wet kiss underneath Even’s earlobe and grinned against his skin when he heard the faintest intake of breath.

“Are you kidding?” he mumbled against Even’s criminally soft skin. “I’ve been fucking dreaming about doing this for months.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Baby Gay, we’re home! Sorry for staying out all night but Linn got us into the afterparty at-” Isak was barely roused from his comfortable, satisfying sleep by the time Eskild made it to the door, throwing it open and pausing mid-sentence when his eyes fell on the scene at the bed. Even stirred as Isak sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes so his vision cleared and he could focus on Eskild, stood in the doorway of his bedroom, arms folded across his chest and an expression that was a strange mix of excited and afraid.

He stared at Isak first, taking in the red marks across his skin and the state of his tousled hair.

“Kai?” he asked.

“We broke up.”

“Hm.” Eskild’s gaze shifted to Even, who didn’t bother sitting up, instead propping his neck up with the pillows they’d scattered last night during the hours they spent enjoying the very empty apartment. “Sonja?” he asked. Even grinned.

“I’m finishing with her today.”

“Linn!” Eskild screeched, leaning back out into the hallway. The sound of his voice was deafening, and a still very groggy Isak fell back against Even’s soft chest, squeezing his eyes closed. One of Even’s hands crept up to his hair, tickling the side of his neck gently. Isak couldn’t help himself. He smiled into Even’s skin. “Linn! Code Red! It’s finally happening!” he could hear Eskild, but his body was too tired and sore to do much about it. “It’s _happened_! Even and Isak have _finally_ happened.”

“What?” he could barely make out Linn’s gruff, tired mumble from across the hall. “I thought Isak had a boyfriend and Even-”

“-had a girlfriend, _yes_ , but _had_ is past tense Linn, keep up! Oh my god, where’s my phone- I need to tell everyone in the _EVAK_ group chat, hold on-”

“So much for keeping things quiet.” Isak huffed. Even laughed.

“You weren’t so bothered about staying quiet last night.” He teased, and Isak rolled over onto his other side to glare at him. “If I remember correctly you were _screaming_ my name and-”

“ _Stop_!” Isak giggled, lunging up to cover Even’s mouth with his hands as an extremely exaggerated impression of his shrill moans rang through the room, loud enough that they could definitely be heard outside the bedroom. “Stop, Even! I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Even was smug, gaining the upper hand quickly and rolling them over so that Isak was on his back, Even settled on top of him. Playfully, he kissed the tip of Isak’s nose before blowing raspberry in his neck, making them both giggle. “You like me.” he smirked. “You said so yesterday. You _like_ me, Isak Valtersen.”

Isak grinned. “I guess I do.”

“Good.” Even finally kissed him, just once, chaste and soft. “Because guess what?”

“Hmm, what?”

Even grinned. “I like you too.”

 

 


	5. Part Five: DESEMBER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November passes in a happy blur, but nothing lasts forever. There's a lot to digest for Isak in December. Maybe too much.
> 
> Isak and Even navigate the ups and downs of December.

__

_ Part Five: DESEMBER _

 

 

 

 

Once they’d started, Isak wasn’t sure how he’d initially been able to resist Even at all.

For Isak, it was earth-shattering how easily they clicked in such a multitude of ways, despite at core level being such vastly different people. Isak didn’t like to be conscious before midday but Even always woke up with the sunrise. Even geeked out and talked over every single detail of every film they watched but Isak preferred sitting quietly and reading non-fiction books about acting techniques and the ever-changing schisms of the universe. It was like all the great contrasts of history he’d never bothered to care about until now: science versus art, faith versus logic, but Isak now finally understood how the two mediums had always been able co-exist so perfectly. Some days it felt like he and Even were in tune with each other’s _souls-_ despite their obvious character differences they just seemed to _fit_ in terms of personality, hobbies, sexual chemistry. Isak sat through every single pretentious, black and white independent film and read along with the subtitles without even thinking of complaining. Even laid awake in the early hours of the morning listening to Isak fight his insomnia by talking about the brilliance of the cosmos despite the fact he could so easily fall asleep as soon as the sun had set.

It was _easy_. For the first time in his entire like, Isak was finding things so fucking _easy_.

He didn’t think about Kai, or any of the other random hook-ups and past bad decisions. Even treated him not just how he _deserved_ to be treated- but how he actually _wanted_ to be treated. Sure, sometimes Even would drag him out to a restaurant with dishes too fancy for them to even attempt to pronounce, or he’d make them take cheesy couples photos underneath landmarks when they went sightseeing around a city they’d spent their whole lives in- but he was equally happy sitting across from Isak in their favourite café, eating cheap _kardamomme_ toasties and talking about their life with Mathilde as she served milkshake after milkshake and winked when only half the total was marked on the bill.

In three, short weeks, Isak felt completely stable and for once- _not_ afraid with the revelation that he was absolutely head-over-heels in love with Even. It wasn’t even surprising. They’d always been fucking _perfect_ for each other. It had just taken them both a little while to be ready for it.

“I saw Kai the other day.” Jonas mumbled, shaking his head slightly. They were a little bit high, a little giggly, sat on opposite ends of Isak’s bed as the sun set outside. Isak loved spending time with his best friend, obviously, but Even was working a gig sketching at a party and Isak usually found himself getting antsy whenever they spent more than a few hours apart after spending the last few weeks constantly together. If Jonas noticed (which he probably did) he didn’t say anything. “Just walking down the street. I don’t know if he saw me but… it was weird. It was like, probably the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him look.”

“I think he knew we’d both be better off without each other.” Isak exhaled smoke in the air, watching it curl in on itself before dissipating completely. It was weird- in the short time he and Even had been together, he’d gained a new-found appreciation for visual stimulation. He blamed it on all those fucking renaissance paintings Even had saved as a slideshow for his desktop wallpaper.

“Can’t argue with that.” Jonas shrugged. Isak hummed quietly in agreement but didn’t move to say anything else. He sort of felt like he was floating on top of the soft bed sheets and Jonas’ voice was morphing into a low, vibrating hum.

“So are you and Even like, official yet?” Jonas asked, adjusting his beanie slightly. Isak laid back on the bed, head dangling over the edge, feet propped up on the wall. He shrugged.

“We haven’t really talked about it or put a label on things. We just sort of _are_ , I don’t know? He hasn’t asked me to be his boyfriend or anything but… well, I _highly_ doubt he’s fucking someone else.” He laughed, and Jonas joined in softly.

“Definitely not.” He agreed. “I think it’s pretty clear to everyone in a fifty mile radius how fucking gone he is for you. He probably just realises it’s a bit soon since the whole you and Kai thing. He probably doesn’t want to rush things along just so you can have some dumb label that doesn’t actually mean anything anyway.”

“Yeah.” Isak nodded, taking another stiff drag before handing the joint back over to Jonas. “I don’t care about any of that shit. It’s just me and Even, you know? That’s all that matters.”

“Have you told him?”

Isak frowned. “Told him what?”

“About _Marianne_?”

There was a beat of silence between them, before slowly, Isak nodded. It was a touchy subject, and Jonas knew that. He didn’t bring up Isak’s mother often, knowing the two didn’t have much contact due to his piece of shit father and the mistakes they’d both made in the past. However, none of that which was in the past changed the fact that she was his mother, ill or not, and Isak loved her more than anyone else in the world.

“I told him. I wasn’t even scared, Jonas. I just _told_ him, just like that. And he totally understood. He was just like, right, okay. I told him about mamma’s breakdown and pappa leaving and everything. And I told him that I was so wary of falling in love with people because in the past the people I love have usually found a way to hurt me.” he huffed a laugh. “Sounds fucking dramatic as shit, I know. But I think he got it. He was just quiet and he listened and then we watched a movie and haven’t talked about it since. It’s perfect.”

“Do you love him?” Jonas asked, candidly. Isak sighed.

“I really think I do man. Like… is that even a question at this point?”

Jonas drawled, “ _Wow_ ,” but despite the sarcastic edge, his eyes looked happy. Isak doubted that it was just the weed lacing the tone of his voice with such fondness. “Dude, who are you and what have you done with Isak Valtersen?”

It was a fair enough question. Isak couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen the sudden change, not so much in his personality but more so in his mindset that had come about since he and Even began seeing each other properly. Everyone had noticed it- Jonas, Eva, Noora, _Eskild_ \-  and they hadn’t hesitated on telling him about it as often as possible with gloating, happy smiles. Even at auditions, the scarce few he’d bothered to attend when he had the energy to drag himself from Even’s warm, all-encompassing arms, he felt a new vibe of positivity between himself and directors, and suddenly he was being brought in for roles _other_ than ‘grumpy teenage side-character’.

So yeah, things were good. Things were so good- Isak hadn’t even begun to imagine what it would be like when things started to get bad.

“Let’s go to the museum.”

Isak groaned, rolling over in bed with his eyes still squeezed shut. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been asleep, but behind his closed eyelids was only darkness, so he could safely assume it was still the middle of the night. He reached out across the bed for Even, but was met only with an empty space.

“Isak, baby- let’s go to the museum. The science museum. I’ve just had the best idea!” Even’s voice was a little further away, more so on the other side of Isak’s small bedroom. Isak frowned, still half-asleep as Even continued to talk, and the sound of his wardrobe door being swung open eventually forced him to open his eyes.

Even was awake. It was pitch black outside, and they’d had a fairly normal evening before heading to bed. Even made dinner for _Kollektivet_ and Eskild cooed at what a ‘catch’ he was. Then, they retreated to Isak’s room, watched a movie, fooled around and Isak fell asleep laid out on Even’s chest with a hand buried in his hair, reminded yet again how safe and valued and loved they were by each other.

But now, for God knows what reason, Even was awake, rifling through Isak’s wardrobe before pulling out a hoodie to cover his naked body.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Isak mumbled, eyes barely open, voice hoarse from sleep. “Come back to bed.”

“We can recreate our first kiss!” Even ignored him, pulling the hoodie over his head as he rifled through Isak’s drawer for a fresh pair of socks. “You know, in the museum! But this time, we’ll get it right, and the fucking security guard wont interrupt.”

Isak’s face pulled a frown, still slow and groggy from sleep. “What the fuck are you talking about Even?” he sat up a little, looking over to the digital clock that sat on his bedside table. In blinking red, the time _02:13_ flashed at him. Isak’s head fell back against the pillow. “It’s two in the fucking morning. We can’t go to the museum right now. It’s closed.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Even stilled. Then, finally, he turned around so he could look down at Isak, laid pouting on the bed. “Sorry baby. What was I thinking?” he rushed over, pulling the hoodie back off so he was naked again, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Isak was too tired to argue with him about his untidiness. All he could think was that this was clearly a very, _very_ strange lucid dream and the sooner he forced himself back to sleep the sooner it would be morning and he could forget about the whole ordeal. “I’m sorry.” Even leant down, kissing his forehead. “I shouldn’t have woken you up. I’m sorry. Times ten. Times _twenty_!”

“Ja, _ja,_ okay- I get it,” Isak giggled quietly as Even peppered kisses across his face, holding him between two strong hands. Then Even settled at his lips, kissing him soundly whilst simultaneously nudging Isak’s legs apart with his own. “What are you doing?” Isak asked with a quiet laugh as Even turned the kiss more heated, tongue darting out to dance between his lips. He pulled away, turning his head with a smile. “Even, babe, as hot as you are- it’s two in the morning.”

“Perfect,” Even’s eyes gleamed in the dark. “That means everyone else is still sleeping.”

“Why are you so horny all of a sudden?” Isak laughed as he felt Even’s cock, half hard against the inside seam of his thigh. Any other time of day, he’d be following suit, but his body was too tired after the hours they’d spent fucking before they went to bed. Actually- they’d been having a _lot_ of sex recently. More so than usual- and that was saying something considering they were two men in their early twenties who thought about sex probably eighty percent of their day. Isak didn’t know what was behind Even’s sudden spike in libido, but he was very aware of lips trailing from his jaw down to his neck, and a hand curling at his hip, fingers reaching down to brush across his backside. “ _Faen_ , Even, I promise I’ll blow you in the morning, but not right now, baby, I’m tired.”

Even leant up off him, pouting. “Fine,” he huffed, detaching himself from Isak completely and sitting up on the bed. Isak whined, rolling back over to his previous, comfortable sleeping position.

“Come back to bed so we can sleep?”

“In a sec.” Even stood up, still half-hard, and walked around the bed to the side Isak was facing. He walked over to where his bag had been tossed against the wall earlier and started rooting through it, loudly, much to Isak’s displeasure.

“Why do you have so much fucking energy all of a sudden?” he snapped, starting to feel a little irate. Even knew how hard it was for him some nights to so much as fall asleep, so the fact that he was suddenly so eager to keep Isak awake felt a little insulting. “Baby, whatever you’re looking for, I’m sure it can wait until the fucking morning. Can you just come and lie down please?”

Finally, Even did as he was asked. It took him ten minutes to find a spot in which he was comfortable, but eventually, just as the clock struck half past two in the morning, he settled and closed his eyes. Isak rolled away from him, burying his face into the pillow. There wasn’t much in ways of explanation for how erratic Even had been acting recently- but Isak supposed that was just his personality. He was fairly impulsive by nature, a total _artist-type_ , and his writers block had only been worsening. That surely had been putting a strain on his mind, and Isak felt sympathy for him. The whole film business hadn’t been working out particularly great for either of them recently, but he was sure things would work their way up soon. He’d had an audition for a small speaking role in a TV show only a week ago before that _hadn’t_ been total dogshit. He was sure Even would find his muse again eventually.

Until then, there was only one thing Isak was worried about as Even finally came back to bed and laid beside him, eyes closed. Getting a decent fucking night’s sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

When Isak woke up the next morning, groggy and a little later than usual, he frowned to notice that Even was gone. He sat up, a still a little out of it, and rubbed his eyes with his fists. He looked around the room, listened out for the shower- but Even was nowhere to be seen. His bag was gone. His phone had been taken off the charger. Isak checked the bedside table and under his pillow, but there wasn’t even one of the silly little drawings Even liked to leave him whenever they separated. He was just _gone_.

Isak was half expecting to just find him in the kitchen, cooking breakfast with Eskild and Noora, but surprisingly was only met with Linn, sitting cross legged at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of hot chocolate and looking at her phone. She didn’t say anything to acknowledge Isak’s presence, just pointed over at the microwave.

Isak stumbled over, and opened the microwave to see a small plate of scrambled eggs (Even’s breakfast speciality) laid waiting for him, covered in a thin layer of foil.

“Is this for me?”

Linn nodded. “Even got up at like, _six_ am and started making eggs for everyone. Noora and Eskild got up at like, seven because they both had work. He left some for me and you to reheat and then Eskild said he took off pretty quickly. Something about inspiration, I don’t know.”

“Hmm.” Isak frowned, staring at the eggs. His stomach was hardly rumbling- Even had cooked them a ridiculously huge dinner last night after an overzealous trip to the grocery store where he’d dragged Isak down every single isle, tossing in box after box and can after can of random foodstuffs he certainly didn’t need. Even more surprisingly, at the checkout, Even had pulled a bankcard out of his wallet Isak had never seen before and paid for the whole thing without blinking. The _Kollektivet_ cupboards were full to bursting. When Isak asked about the card, Even just shrugged and said it was his parents, for emergencies. Isak didn’t think his grocery shopping was an emergency, but once Even had an idea in his head, it was kind of hard to talk him out of it. So they’d gorged themselves on Even’s perfectly cooked meal and stretched themselves for dessert. Isak didn’t even want to think about breakfast.

“Is Even okay?” Linn asked, still staring down at her phone. Isak skipped past the microwave and instead moved to the kettle, flicking it on to make a cup of coffee. He had work at noon- he could eat then.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Linn shrugged.

“I don’t know. He seems kind of… _extra_ Even-y.”

Isak laughed. “Extra Even-y. Well, Even _is_ pretty extra by nature.”

“Yeah, but like… he’s been extra-extra for the last few days. Eskild noticed it too.”

Isak just stared at the water in the kettle bubbling as it boiled. He supposed that Linn was right. Even had sort of been walking around like he’d turned everything in life up to eleven for the fun of it. but Even was, by nature, a very unpredictable kind of guy. Isak just assumed he was burning himself out a little in preparation for his next wave of creative inspiration.

“I think he’s just a little wound up with his writer’s block.” He said, and the kettle boiled, water finally settling. “He’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

When he looked back around at Linn, her expression was pensive. It seemed like she had thousands of more questions to asked, but getting inside Linn’s head was an adventure Isak certainly was _not_ ready for at search an early hour. So, before she could ask anything else, he took his fresh coffee and headed off into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

As his shift at _KB_ ended, Isak’s stormy expression lit up when he spotted Even’s smiling face at the coffeeshop window. They’d been closed for an hour, Isak and Charli cleaning up the store whilst their dickhead manager stood out in the alley and chain-smoked cigarettes whilst arguing with his wife on the phone. It was a usual late shift, but made even better when Even’s smiling face, illuminated by streetlights appeared behind the glass at the table he was cleaning. Isak grinned, and Even leant forwards, fogging up the glass with his breath before drawing a crude heart, sealing the deal with a little ‘I’ traced on the inside.

“Wow, you guys are so cute.” Charli laughed, right as the pink watch on her left wrist beeped. “Shit, times up. Let’s go before Hans starts yelling about dust under the windowsill.”

Isak took off his apron and tossed it over to her. Charli hung them up behind the counter and tossed him back his jacket. The two had a mutual understanding of fucking with their manager and getting off as easily as possible. She was the best co-worker Isak ever had.

“Later Charli,” he waved, pushing through the door and smiling as Even pulled him into an immediate kiss. “Halla.” He muttered against his boyfriend’s lips.

“Halla, _baby_.”

“I’ve got news.” Isak announced, smug and excited. Even raised an eyebrow.

“What is it? Has Donald Trump been impeached?”

“Hmm, close. Keep guessing.”

“The Incredibles Two release date has been brought forwards?”

Isak rolled his eyes. “I fucking wish, you’re terrible at this!”

“So tell me!”

“I texted pappa today.” Isak slipped his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it quickly to pull up the brief chat he’d had with his father- the first conversation they’d had in over a month. He showed it to Even, watching his blue eyes dance as he skimmed across the text bubbles at impressive speed. “See- he didn’t even make a jab about me being gay this time. _And_ he wants to meet you.”

“I can’t believe it!”

“I know. It’s a Christmas concert thing, totally lame but… mamma will be there too. She’s going to love you so much,” he reached up to stroke Even’s face, and was rewarded happily with a kiss. Even was a little more overzealous than they usually would be in public, despite the fact that it was nine o’clock at night and not many people were around. Still, Isak yelped a little when Even grabbed his ass and pulled them flush together, right there on the street corner. “Okay,” Isak laughed. “Chill out, we’ve got all night.”

“Sorry baby,” Even didn’t let go. “You’re just too irresistible.”

“Really?” Isak raised an eyebrow. “I reek of coffee and cleaning products-”

Even didn’t even give him a chance to finish speaking starting an assault of kisses across Isak’s face and down his neck, making him giggle until they were interrupted by Isak’s phone, buzzing in his hand. He managed to worm his way out of Even’s embrace (with a fair amount of difficulty) and laughing, didn’t even bother to check the number on screen before accepting the call.

“ _Even_ \- quit it. Halla?”

 _“Halla, is that Isak Valtersen_?”

Isak frowned, still using his free hand to push Even away as his boyfriend continued to tease him, tugging him forwards by his beltloops. “It is. Who’s speaking?”

_“I’m Van Trunds, the casting director for det går bra. You did an audition for us a few weeks ago?”_

“Oh, yeah!” Isak pushed a little more forcefully, and Even seemed to get the message, finally stopping his exploration of Isak’s neck. “Yes, sir. Thank you for calling!”

_“We loved your audition. We’d like to invite you back in, as we’re seriously considering you for a role in our play. Are you available on the 29 th?”_

“I’m _very_ available on the twenty-ninth, yes! Of course- uh, thank you so much!”

_“Thank you Isak, we’re looking forward to seeing you after the holidays. Have a wonderful Christmas.”_

_“_ You too!” Isak’s jaw dropped in shock, and he stood, frozen on the pavement, phone still pressed to his ear even though the phone line was long dead. Even was just staring at him, still smiling, but with a little uncertainty in his eyes.

“Who was that?” he asked, eventually.

“It was a… _casting director_!” Isak exclaimed. “For that play- uh- _det går bra!_ Remember, I had the audition?!”

“Ja!” Even’s excitement matched his instantly, and he grabbed Isak by his upper arms, shaking him roughly. “Well?” he asked, beaming. “What did he say?”

“They want me to come back in after Christmas…” Isak’s voice was quiet, still more than a little shocked. For once, he hadn’t been spending all his time sitting at home or at work, dreaming of his chance to actually make his dream a reality. He’d been so distracted with Even and actually _living_ his life, he’d almost forgotten that the dream was still there.

And now… it was potentially becoming a reality.

“Even. I’ve got a _call-back_ \- like an actual _call-back_!” he jumped forwards, wrapping his arms around the back of Even’s shoulders excitedly, holding him tightly. Even’s arms went tight around his waist, physically lifting him in the air in a show of strength Isak had never seen him exude, whirling them around in an unsteady circle. He giggled, delirious as the streetlights around them blurred and all he was aware of was Even’s beautiful, smiling face and their shared, excited laughter.

“I’m so proud of you!” Even said, finally setting him down. Isak stumbled a little, struggling to get his bearings at first, having to clutch onto Even’s forearms for balance. “Baby, you’re amazing.”

“I can’t believe it.” Isak’s face was starting to hurt from the size of the smile on his face, but it was impossible to stop. “ _Faen-_ I just wanna run home and fuck all night to celebrate. Are you keen on going back to my place?”

Even grinned, but shook his head. “No.” he said. “I’m not keen on that, actually.”

Isak raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What are you keen on then?”

“I’m keen on going into town, and checking into a _fucking suite_.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Even had said a _fucking suite_ , Isak had no idea quite how seriously he meant it.

He didn’t mind going to a hotel. There was plenty dotted about the city, intended for tourists, and it would be cute- having a night to themselves with Eskild sticking his nose in or the awkwardness of Even’s roommates, all who happened to be strong advocates of his and Sonja’s now ended relationship. However, Even didn’t lead him down a few side-streets to a quaint, moderately priced bed and breakfast. Even lead him to the _Raddison Blu_ hotel, the biggest, fanciest, most expensive hotel Isak had ever set foot into in his whole life. He felt shockingly out of place from the moment they stepped into the foyer- but Even hardly flinched, leading Isak inside with a bright smile, flirting with the woman at the desk until she slipped them a key for a ‘sudden vacancy’ on the top floor, despite the fact that the hotel wasn’t supposed to admit rooms after seven pm.

“Fy faen, Even, how much is this costing?”

“We’re _celebrating_ , Isak! Forget about the money, just let me treat you, huh?”

So Isak did. Even waved the mysterious credit card a few times and suddenly they were in one of the nicest rooms in the whole hotel, with a giant glass window covering one entire wall, giving them a jaw-dropping view of the entire city, lit up in the night.

Not that Isak had much time to appreciate the view.

Even was on him from the moment they checked in. Isak was standing in front of the window, looking out at the city below when he felt his boyfriend’s warm presence at his back, teasing hands settled on his hips, long, dexterous fingers reaching around his front to brush under the hem of his t-shirt, lips on his neck, slowly making their way up to his ear.

“Fuck, Isak- I want you so bad.”

“Even,” Isak giggled. “I’m starting to think you only want me for my body.”

“I want you in every sense of the word.” Even breathed into his ear, pulling Isak even closer against him, fingers splaying over his abs. “Anything, baby. Anywhere, any way. But right now, I want you against this glass, screaming my name for the whole of Oslo to see.” He bumped his crotch against the back of Isak, pushing him further against the giant window. Isak winced slightly at the coldness.

“Hot as that sounds, I doubt it’s very practical. Also- there’s a giant fucking king size bed right behind us and oh-” his words were cut off when Even whirled him around before he physically lifted Isak (despite him being six foot tall and not exactly _light_ ) over his shoulder before he tossed him down on the soft, bouncy bed. Isak looked up at Even and grinned, but didn’t recognise the look that was shot back at him. Even looked almost feral, like a wild animal with heat burning in his eyes and his focus entirely on Isak, swallowing him in the pool of his blue eyes. Isak could barely keep up- Even wanted everything so _fast_ , it was like he blinked, and suddenly all their clothes were off and Even was turning him around onto his front, taking his position from behind.

They’d had sex plenty of times in the weeks since they’d moved on from agonising pining to actual relationship, but it was never like _this_.

Isak liked rough sex. That wasn’t a secret. It was Even, usually, who was so obsessed with taking things _slowly_ , taking Isak apart piece by piece, running his lips over every available expanse of skin, giggling and whispering soft sweet nothings in his ears, taking him apart piece by piece in ways Isak had never experienced before. He’d never had sex like it- and he never thought it would’ve been the kind of thing he particularly enjoyed- but Even was always one for surprising him. However, this time around, it felt like Even had undergone a personality transplant. Barely a word or playful jibe was exchanged between them- not that Isak was in any position to form cohesive sentences when Even was railing into him from behind with one hand holding his hip in a bruising grip and the other buried in his hair, yanking his head backwards.

It was brutal, and immediate and very, _very_ hot. But there was one thing that didn’t make sense.

It just wasn’t _Even_.

Even the way he acted afterwards- usually, Isak was used to Even’s content doting on him, bringing him water or something to eat, laying himself over Isak, cuddling him close to his chest and kissing across his face, telling him how beautiful he was, how loved he was and how amazing they were together. Isak would always roll his eyes, call Even a _sap_ and very nicely ask him to _shut up_ so they could sleep- but the moment that treatment was gone, Isak craved it again.

Even wouldn’t even fucking lay _down_. It had been hours of non-stop conversation as Even paced around the room, until Isak finally got him to relax and sit down, wrapped in the bedsheets as they ate gourmet mini burgers delivered by a very disgruntled room-service concierge who was clearly on the tail end of a long shift. Even was beaming, clearly satisfied. Isak was just watching him with curious eyes.

“We should have these at our wedding.” He hummed around a mouthful of bacon and mayonnaise. Isak forced a laugh.

“Our wedding, seriously?”

“What?” Even asked, incredulously. “We are _so_ fucking getting married.”

As he then went on to narrate the details of their future wedding- _naked, Isak. From now on, we’re going to do everything naked-_ Isak looked at him. Really looked at him, for the first time in hours- or perhaps days.

And it was strange- because Even didn’t look like himself at all.

“ _Baby_ ,” Isak whined, eyes peeling open to be met, once again, with a dark and empty bed. It had been hours since they’d gone to bed, but Isak hadn’t felt Even return since a harsh kiss was pressed to the side of his face and he heard the bathroom door slam. Apparently, Even wanted to shower at half one in the morning. Isak was too tired to argue with him. “ _Come lay with me.”_

“Yeah, I will in a minute-” Even’s voice sounded distant, faraway almost. “I’m just going to get some Mcdonald’s first.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Do you think he’s in love with you? He’s not. It’s just a sick idea he’s got right now._

_So can you please, just… stay away?!_

 

 

The harsh words had been ringing in Isak’s ears for days.

 

 

After running back to _Kollektivet_ with tears in his eyes and his words a jumbled mess of _Even_ and _Sonja_ and _Manic_ , Eskild had hugged him tightly before tucking him into bed and leaving a tall glass of water on his nightstand. Surprising even himself, Isak fell asleep instantly. It was like his body had gone into crisis mode- it just couldn’t function anymore with the amount of information bouncing around his brain. So instead, he shut down, and slept for twelve straight hours.

“I know it hurts,” Eskild told him, lingering in his doorway awkwardly as if he was afraid to even so much as touch Isak, in case he caved in on himself completely. “But it will pass. I promise it will pass Isak. It always does.”

It didn’t feel like it was going to pass. Isak wasn’t even sure if he still felt sad- it was just like a giant, gaping hole sat in his chest where his heart used to be. _Numb_ \- it was the only way to describe it. Even was _manic_ , whatever that meant, and Isak was completely numb.

He slept for a few more hours, before reluctantly dragging himself into consciousness and opening his laptop. He googled _mania_ , but after a while the harsh glowing screen just made his eyes burn and the tiny black letters wriggled themselves around the page and tied themselves in knots. Isak was too tired to read. He was too tired to do anything.

The only contact he received from Even for the next three days was a transcript copy of the lyrics to Cherry Wine by Nas. Isak wasn’t sure if that was supposed to help him, make sense of everything going on, but it certainly fucking didn’t make him feel any better.

 _Hei Even_ , he replied. _I don’t understand shit right now. Stop texting me_.

The rest of the week passed more or less in the same way. Even didn’t text him again, and Isak didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Everyone in _Kollektivet_ tiptoed around him as if they were walking on eggshells, no-one daring to so much as mention Even’s name or _kardamomme_ or fucking scrambled eggs. Not that Isak gave them much of a chance to upset him- barely leaving his room except to shower and brush his teeth. Even that felt exhausting. He just wasn’t ready to face the outside world without Even right there, by his side and now… he wasn’t sure if that would ever be the case again.

 

* * *

 

 

Unannounced, as if he’d ever needed an invite, Jonas arrived at his door four days into his self-exile. Behind him was a slightly sheepish looking Magnus, blonde hair askew and cheeks red from the cold winds outside. Isak just stood in his doorway staring blankly at them both, until his red, cried-out eyes floated down and noticed the brown bags in their hands.

“We brought McDonalds.”

Isak felt a twinge in his chest as his stomach turned. McDonalds. That’s what Even had been looking for when he’d disappeared naked into the night, the last time they’d seen each other. But of course, neither Jonas nor Magnus would’ve possibly been able to know that, so he stepped aside to let them in, flopping back against his bed where he’d been sitting for hours, laptop open beside him.

He poked around at the burger and fries Jonas had thrusted into his hands, but didn’t really bother eating either. He could feel the worried looks burning into him from friendly eyes, but was far too tired to comment on them.

“So…” Jonas finally spoke, after a few awkward exchanged glanced between himself and Magnus as if they were silently debating who was going to bring it up. “What’s up with you like… totally ghosting and stuff?”

Isak sighed, pressing his head back against the headboard. He knew, rightfully, his friends deserved an explanation for his sudden disappearance off the face of the earth. It was just becoming so fucking exhausting going over the story in his head again and again. All Isak wanted to do was _forget_ , rather than remember.

“Even… he lost it.” he said quietly. Jonas frowned.

“What do you mean, lost it?”

Isak stared at his yellow, sickly fries. “He started acting all weird and hyper and then he went outside naked in the middle of the night.” He mumbled. “Apparently… he’s bipolar.”

“Hm.” Magnus said around a mouthful of burger. “My _mamma_ ’s bipolar.”

Isak frowned, looking up at Magnus properly for the first time since he’d sat down. For all the years they’d been friends, it was odd that he’d never heard it mentioned before. Perhaps he just hadn’t paid enough attention.

“Your mamma is ill too?”

“She’s not _ill_ ,” Magnus wrinkled his nose, but Isak could tell that he wasn’t really offended. It took _a lot_ to piss off Magnus. He was the most easy going person Isak had ever fucking met. “She’s just bipolar. You’ve met her, right?”

Isak thought back. Distantly, he could remember meeting Magnus’ mother once or twice in the few times he’d hung out over at their house. She hadn’t seemed particularly unbalanced, or fragile. She was just _Magnus’ mamma_. Nothing out of the ordinary about her.

“Yeah… I have, I think.”

“She’s totally fine just, like, sometimes she goes through periods where she’s like… really depressed or like stoked.” Magnus said, casual as ever, tossing a few more fries into his mouth as Isak watched him in complete amazement. Magnus- the last fucking member of his group of friends he would’ve  turned to in a crisis- and _his mamma is bipolar like Even_. “Like, she does some crazy shit sometimes too. Obviously she hasn’t walked out naked in the middle of the night-” he paused, laughing, and quietly, nervously, Jonas joined him. Isak didn’t quite feel like laughing when he remembered running frantically though the streets, Even’s clothes in his hands and panic making his chest tight- but that wasn’t for Magnus to know. “-but one time,” he continued “like, she was so pissed at NSB, she found out who their regional director was and wrote a letter of resignation in his name. it was all like, _oh, I can’t work anymore, I give up_. Ha!” he laughed again, a little louder, and Isak felt a smile tug at his lips for the first time in days. “But anyway…” Magnus stopped giggling, and set his burger down. “Where’s Even now, is he okay?”

It was a good question. Isak didn’t really have the answer to the second part, but he did his best with the first.

“At home, I guess.”

“Yeah, not like _physically_ , but like in his head? Is he still like… super _stoked_ or is he depressed?”

Isak froze slightly. He hadn’t thought about it like that. Of course, when obsessively reading over the Wikipedia article for _mania_ , he distinctively remembered reading something about depressive episodes also being involved in bipolar. He just hadn’t put the pieces together and figured that a lot of the time, the two followed each other consecutively.

“I haven’t talked to him.” He replied, truthfully. Magnus and Jonas shared a look.

“Why not?” Magnus asked. Isak looked down in his lip and blinked away the tears that threatened to spill. _Why Not?_ It was a good question. It was a question Isak was starting to think he knew the answer to, even if he was too afraid to admit it to himself.

But this wasn’t to himself. This was Magnus- who up until this point in their friendship, had never had a single serious thing to say. Isak took a deep, shaking breath.

“It’s all just bullshit, isn’t it? Him actually liking me and breaking up with Sonja and stuff. It’s just because he’s been manic.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Magnus asked, laughing slightly. Isak dared to look up at him, vision blurring as tears swelled in his eyes. If Magnus saw them, thankfully, he didn’t say anything. Then, gently, Isak felt Jonas’ finger brush across his tightly gripped fist comfortingly. “Isak… Even and you have known each other for a quite a while now, right? He hasn’t exactly been manic that whole time.”

Isak sighed. “But Sonja said-”

“- _Sonja_?” Jonas spluttered. “Even’s ex-girlfriend? Who he dumped… for _you_. You’re listening to _her_?”

“Well-”

“Isak,” Magnus laughed again, but softer this time. “We all know that Even is fucking obsessed with you and always has been. Him being bipolar doesn’t change that, and just because he’s been manic doesn’t mean he’s fucking brain-dead. He still knows what he wants. Which is you, by the way. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

“Maybe you should talk to him.” Jonas added. Isak looked between his two friends, before lifting his hand and wiping underneath his eye. Then, he looked away from Jonas’ dark, intense gaze, and stared at his phone.

“Ja.” He said. “Maybe I will.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Heeding the boys advice, Isak called Even a few times once they were gone and the night set in, but every time he was left with the disappointing dial tone as Even’s phone skipped straight to voicemail. Isak pressed his mouth into a thin line and took in a deep, steady breath. After the conversation with Magnus had told him about his mother all he could imagine was Even, laid out in his bed at home, sad and alone and too tired to even reach over and pick up the phone.

The image broke his heart. And it hurt even worse, knowing that it was all his own fucking fault for being so fucking ignorant and letting everyone else’s opinions other than Even’s control his decisions. For not being there. For not caring for Even like he’d promised every time they kissed, and silently said words that their minds were too afraid to let slip.

Isak looked down, startled and excited as his phone buzzed, praying for a miracle that Even had tried to make contact with him after all- despite his stupid, thoughtless text asking to be left alone. However, he was immediately disappointed when he saw his father’s name flashing on the screen instead. It wasn’t a secret that Isak had been consistently ignoring his messages over the course of the week. He wasn’t intentionally being difficult. He just wasn’t sure what to say.

 

 

 

 

**_PAPPA_ **

_Isak, stop ignoring my texts. Are you still coming to the Christmas concert?_

_Mamma is really looking forwards to seeing you_

_And Even._

 

 

Even reading his name on the dimmed screen of his phone made Isak feel teary. He wasn’t sure how he was meant to explain to his father over text that _no_ , Even would certainly _not_ be attending the Christmas concert, nevertheless as his boyfriend. Unfortunately, his father didn’t even give him the chance to try, phone ringing the second he saw that Isak had read his messages.

“Hei pappa.” He sighed, hoping the disappointment and sadness wasn’t too prominent in his shaking voice.

_“Hei, Isak. Glad I finally got hold of you. Are you coming to the Christmas concert?”_

“Uh, Ja.” Isak took a deep breath through his nose. “I’m coming.” He nodded to nobody. Perhaps to himself. “I am.”

 _“And… uh, your… boyfriend?_ ”

“I don’t think so.” Isak bit his lip as tears gathered behind his eyelashes. _Stop crying_ , he silently screamed at himself. _Stop fucking crying_. “He- uh… it wasn’t. It was just a joke.” He lied, and the words felt like a stab in the gut. It wasn’t fucking _fair_ , the lies he was spilling to his father for no reason other than the fact that he’d ruined his own life. Why was he even bothering with lies? Perhaps it all stemmed down to the never-ending cliché that was his childhood, and the fact that his father had never really been too fond of the fact that he was gay from the moment he came out and Isak had been terrified of his opinion ever since.

But those days were over. He wasn’t a scared shitless, closeted teenager anymore. He was a grown-up- and was time to start fucking acting like one.

“ _Well, okay then Isak, I’ll pick you up at-”_

“Wait, _pappa_.” Isak interrupted, wiping the tear that spilled from his left eye away from his cheek furiously. “I lied.” He gritted his teeth. “It wasn’t a joke.”

He heard his father pause and draw breath, as if he was considering heavily what to say in reply. Then, after what felt like hours of silence, he spoke.

_“….Okay.”_

Isak wanted to scoff in disbelief at his fathers total apathy- but he didn’t. “It wasn’t a joke.” He repeated, one fist gripped at his side. “It’s just over.”

 

* * *

 

 

There was always a lot of discontent in Isak’s relationship with his father, starting from the day the man had turned around and looked Isak straight in his eyes, rested a heavy hand on his shoulder and explained he was _leaving_ , and he _wasn’t coming back._

That was when Isak was sixteen. They hadn’t been on such good terms ever since.

 _Mamma’s_ illness had ripped a hole in their family. It had just taken Isak far too long to realise that it wasn’t actually her fault. It was all _his_ \- a pathetic excuse of a man who left his family when shit hit the fan and didn’t bother hanging around to pick up the pieces. Isak had run scared to Jonas and later, Eskild, but now he was older and slightly better at dealing with his problems, he knew the time had come to try and fix the dilapidated family unit- not for his own sake, but for _her_. He saw mamma’s face light up when he and his dad shook hands, awkward and stilted. She didn’t care about the animosity and the bubbling tension and the redness of Isak’s eyes from where he’d cried the whole journey over. They were back together, as a three, just as she had always wanted.

He thought over the concept as he sat in the pew, watching the chorus assemble on the stage. When he looked to his left and saw his mother, eyes shining with happy tears as the glowing neon cross reflected across her face, he felt at peace inside church for the first time ever. When she used to drag him along to Sunday service every week without fail throughout his adolescence, Isak had never felt more out of place. He knew, even then, before he was able to admit it to himself- that he was _different_ and religion was never going to be in his favour.

But things had changed and he’d like to think he’d grown up a little since then. He wasn’t afraid of religion any more just the same way he didn’t have intense hatred for it. Mamma was still sick but she was doing okay, and Isak promised himself from that moment that he would _always_ take care of her. Pappa had made a lot of mistakes- and _yeah,_ Isak was never going to be able to completely forgive him- but at least he was now trying to make things right.

And then, as the singer took his place at the centre of the stage and broke out into the most beautiful hymm he’d ever heard, Isak thought about Even.

Beautiful Even with his beautiful brain and his mess of thoughts and his explosive, impulsive personality. Even was the truest artist Isak had ever met. It just sucked sometimes that all the best artists had to be so tortured in order to create such beauty.

It wasn’t Even’s fault that he was bipolar. It wasn’t anyone’s. there wasn’t anything wrong with it- it was just another part of Even to love and admire. If it wasn’t for his bipolar, well, maybe Even wouldn’t _be_ Even. Isak didn’t care to know. There was only one version of Even he cared about, one universe, one life. _His_ Even, who was God knows where, doing God knows what and probably feeling the weight of the entire world, pressing down on his chest and crushing his ribcage. He was supposed to be here, Isak’s hand tightly in his as they watched the _true_ meaning of Christmas unfold, but instead- he was alone.

Isak’s phone buzzed in his pocket, distracting him from his racing thoughts.

 

 

 

_Dear Isak,_

 

_I’m now sitting at the place where we met each other for the first time and I’m thinking about you. Soon it will be 21:21. I want to tell you a thousand things. Sorry for scaring you. Sorry for hurting you. Sorry for not telling you that I am bipolar. I was afraid of losing you. I’d forgotten that it’s not possible to lose someone, that all people are alone anyway. A different place in the universe we are together for all eternity. Remember that._

 

_Love you. Even_

 

 

And the second he read the text, Isak knew. It was time to start running _to_ , rather than _away_ from his problems.

It was time to grow up.

 

* * *

 

 

“I should leave.”

Even, to his credit, managed to look pretty even when completely exhausted- laid out on Isak’s bed with his hair flat and lifeless, eyes red and teary, voice quiet and hoarse. Isak didn’t even blink, laid on his side, staring.

“Why?”

“Because,” Even sighed, looking away. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to lay here and look after me.”

“I don’t feel like I’m looking after you.” Isak replied quietly. “And even if I did. Why is that wrong?”

Even gave a non-committal kind of shrug, rolling over so he was flat on his back, eyes closed. For a second, he almost looked peaceful. Isak knew better than to hope.

“There’s nothing wrong with it. I just can’t stand that you lie here all sad.”

Isak shook his head. “I’m not sad.”

“I lied to you.”

“You did.”

Even exhaled, deeply, before peeling his eyes open again. Isak marvelled how every movement, from blinking to breathing looked so slow and exhausting.

“Does that not make you angry?” he asked. Isak laid still. Even was looking at him, unshed tears shining in the low light of the room. It looked as if he had already accepted the answer to be a yes. Isak himself wasn’t sure what the answer was.

“It… makes me angry that you would think you’d have to lie to me, yes.” He said, eventually. “But not angry at you.”

Even whispered, “I’m sorry.” And the world continued to be still around them.

“It’s okay. I understand, I think.”

“You do?”

Isak shrugged. “Maybe. Tell me anyway?”

Even exhaled again. At least, this time, he lifted his eyes to meet Isak’s. “After you told me about your mamma I didn’t want to fuck you up and add to the guilt.”

“That’s what I thought.” Isak nodded, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s bullshit, by the way. You would never add to my guilt.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I’m never going to leave you like I left her. I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ve grown up and I’m going to take care of you both. That chill?”

Even froze then, just staring, eyes wide. It was as if he couldn’t quite believe the words coming from Isak’s mouth, but he really, _really_ wanted to.

“I… sure. That’s chill.”

Isak reached forwards, stroking his face ever so gently with the pad of his thumb. He leant forwards, resting their foreheads together. Even closed his eyes.

“But you have to promise me Ev,”

“Promise what?”

Isak didn’t even blink. Even didn’t look up. “That you won’t lie to me. Not ever again.”

“Okay.” His eyes were still shut, breathing slowing down, but all in all, it was a promise. “I promise.” Even said, and Isak smiled, even though Even couldn’t see him.

“Good.” He leant forwards and kissed Even’s forehead. “You should sleep. You’re tired.”

Even didn’t reply. He did as told.

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was the Kollektivet post-Christmas party, and Isak was already feeling happier than he had in months. Even was up- surprising even himself after he’d told Isak he wouldn’t swing by and would probably just stay around his parents for a bit as he had done over the holidays. They kissed under the mistletoe whilst their friends wolf whistled and for the first time in too long, Isak saw that light-up-the-room, eye’s glowing, hair bouncing smile encapsulate Even’s beautiful face.

He had Even back from despair. They knew more about each other than they ever had. They weren’t lying anymore. The promises they made felt better than any measly _New Years Resolution._

Isak’s phone started ringing in the middle of the party, and for a second he was tempted to ignore it- because Even was unknowingly stood under another bout of mistletoe Eskild had shrouded the apartment in and it looked as if his guru was dead set on accidentally-on-purpose crossing paths with Even beneath it. However, the unfamiliar number struck a familiar note in his gut, so frowning, Isak answered.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

 _“Isak! It’s Van Trunds, the casting director for det går bra?_ ”

Isak’s heart stopped. He’d only gone along to his call-back audition for the play two days ago, under intense pressure from Eskild, Noora and even Linn, who said he was ‘moping around too much’ because Even wasn’t there. Isak hadn’t even thought about the play, or acting in _weeks_ \- but Eskild actually threatened to steal Even’s left-behind-hoodie that he’d been cuddling for several nights and hold it hostage. So Isak went. His second audition went okay- but he didn’t think it was the best he’d ever done. He didn’t even tell Even, worrying that his boyfriend would feel guilty for distracting him from his dream.

“Hi!” he said, nervously. “Uh, nice to hear from you so soon.”

“ _This couldn’t wait_!” Van said. _“I just wanted to let you know that you got the part! We really want you on board as part of our team, if you’re still available?”_

Isak almost dropped the phone.

“Baby? You okay?” Even’s voice, soft and comforting and familiar surrounded him as his face swam into view, leaning down and holding onto Isak’s head between two large hands. “Isak? What’s going on.”

“I got the part.” It sounded like his voice, but Isak didn’t remember speaking. Even raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“What part?”

 _“Isak, are you still there_?”

“Shit- yes! Sorry!” Isak snapped back into reality, pressing the phone against his ear, hard. “Thank you so much! I’m very, uh, available- yes!”

 _“Perfect,_ ” Van laughed. _“I’ll email you our rehearsal schedule. I look forwards to seeing you in the new year, Isak.”_

“You too!” Isak laughed too, delirious even. “Have a good new year _.”_

 _“And you_.”

“Baby?” Even asked again once Isak had lowered the phone. Instead of responding with words, Isak just launched himself into Even’s arms, hugging him tightly with his arms wrapped around his slim shoulders. Even was laughing, the rest of the party slowly noticing the spectacle and turning around the face them, rocking him back and forth as warm hands rested at the small of his back.

“The play, Even!” Isak beamed, finally pulling back from the embrace, happy tears stinging his eyes. “ _Det går bra!_ I got the part!”

“Holy shit!” Even’s face dropped, and he scooped Isak up again, this time lifting him off the ground completely. It almost reminded Isak of the night Even had hugged him whilst he was manic, only this time, his grip wasn’t suffocating and his skin didn’t feel bruised. Even was smiling, but his happiness was at ease and in control and most of all- it was genuine.

“What’s going on?” Eskild asked, an amused smile pulling at his lips and his arms folded across his chest in that _tell me everything_ expression he so often wore. Isak and Even parted again, both sharing wild grins and flushed cheeks.

“Isak got the part in his play.” Even announced, and Eskild squealed.

“Isak got the part in his play!” he repeated, louder, so that everyone around them could hear. They cheered, obviously, rushing over to Isak in clusters to congratulate and hug and kiss. Even hung back, migrating to the back wall with his leg propped up against it, just watching. It didn’t matter how far back he hung- every few seconds Isak’s eyes would dart over to make contact with his, sparkling with excitement. Even just grinned at him from across the room, and around them, the party continued.

Isak had never really believed in the whole principle of Christmas spirit- but Even’s expression in that moment was enough to convince him that all his wishes had finally come true.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Isak’s going to be in a play.” Even announced like a proud father, to his father, looking aside him to Isak and smiling through a mouthful of pasta.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful.” His mother chided, but it was soft and fond, as if this was something Even always did and she had never grown tired of scolding him for it. Then her kind, dark blue eyes settled on Isak, and she smiled, warm and inviting. “That sounds exciting, Isak! Who are you playing?”

As he launched into description of his upcoming character- Even chiming in every so often with extra titbits of information Isak had forgotten to mention- Isak realised just how comfortable he felt in the presence of Even’s family. He didn’t exactly do meet-the-parents often, he’d tried it with Kai but it was as if his mother could sense that the love between them only ran one way, and she disliked him from the very beginning. Here, sat at the dinner table with Even’s knee knocking against his every so often and two well-rounded, pleased parents smiling back at them, Isak finally knew what _family_ was supposed to feel like.

“I told you they’d love you.” Even gloated, afterwards, he and Isak curled into each other in the single-serving bunkbed that stood in his childhood bedroom. Isak rolled his eyes, but he hadn’t been able to fight the grin off his face since Even’s mother served him dessert before anyone else at the table.

“I guess you were right.”

“I was _what_?” Even squeaked. “Isak Valtersen? Admitting I was right?”

“God, shut up!” Isak laughed, pushing him away despite the fact that there was nowhere else either of them could go, confined in between the bars of the top bunk. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me.” Even teased, rubbing his nose against the tip of Isak’s.

“I do.”

“I love you too.” Even whispered, and then, they were kissing. It didn’t last for long, Isak was too busy being happy- so every few seconds his lips would stretch into a smile and the kiss would more or less fall apart. Even drew back, fingers dancing down the side of Isak’s face, dropping kisses to his cheeks and his nose and his forehead.

“I can’t believe we met because you threw a drink on me at a party.” Isak laughed. Even stopped kissing him and shook his head, bashful.

“How do you think _I_ felt?” he laughed. “I was only there to meet you.”

Isak froze, and frowned. “Huh?”

Even looked away from him, a little sheepish.

“Had you seen me before?” Isak asked, smugness mixed with curiosity playing on his lips. Even laid down on top of him, pushing Isak’s legs apart so he could settle in between.

“I saw you for the first time coming out of the NRK studios. You must’ve been at work, I don’t know. You was talking to Sana and my heart just kind of went… _oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you_. So I knew I had to find you again. So I forced Sana to get me into the party. And then I fucked it all up by spilling a drink on you and pissing you off.”

“Oh my God.” Isak mumbled. “And the night when I saw you spraying that building-”

Even looked down at Isak’s chest, guilty. “I was manic- totally like, out of it. I couldn’t even think I just… I looked at you and my brain exploded and then there was sirens and… my legs just started running before my brain could catch up. I’m sorry about that- by the way.”

“It’s fine.” Isak laughed, cuddling Even’s head against his chest, raking his fingers through his soft silken hair. “I just can’t believe you went through all that trouble for me.”

“Of course I did.” Even hugged him tightly, making himself comfortable in the centre of Isak’s chest, smiling against his skin. “Look at you, you’re beautiful.”

They didn’t talk after that, content to just lie and enjoy each other’s silence. Isak was almost certain that Even was asleep, the night dead set, darkness surrounding them, but suddenly, he felt his voice vibrate against him.

“I’ve decided what my next project is going to be.” Even whispered.

“Oh yeah?” Isak whispered back. “What?”

“You.” Even said. “I’m going to paint you. And it’s going to be fucking beautiful”


	6. Part Six: MARS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March: Even gets the opportunity of a lifetime, but for a crucial second, loses sight of what is most important and Isak pays the price.

_ Part Six: MARS _

__

 

 

Isak prided himself on being a relatively chill, collected person. He liked to be logical, thought intensely about everything he ever said or did and he liked things that were scheduled and fixed and neat. Isak didn’t _get_ nervous- because he ran through every possible bad situation in his head a thousand times a night and figured out eight different solutions for each one. Isak _didn’t get nervous-_

-but then his shaking leg hit the bottom of the small dining table, sending his glass of water flying across the room.

Even turned around from where he was stood at the oven- _their oven, in their kitchen, in their apartment that they lived in together-_ and raised an eyebrow.

“You okay there?”

“Ja, fine.” Isak shook his head, dabbing frantically at the corner of his script where water had been spilt, blurring the page numbers just slightly. Even stepped away from the oven when he wasn’t looking, bending over to lift the larger pieces of glass. Isak looked down, guilty, and bit his lip.

“Sorry, I’ll clean it up- you don’t have to-”

“-It’s fine.” Even laughed softly, gathering the glass gently in his open palm before disposing of it carefully in the bin. “I know how nervous and on edge you are about this whole thing.”

“I am _not_ nervous.”

“Sure you’re not.” Even teased, reaching over for a few tissues which he handed to Isak, nodding to the wet patch on the floor. “Baby, you know it’s okay to be nervous. Even though you will definitely smash it. and you still have like, two weeks before the opening.”

“One week, six days and- _faen_. Never mind. I’m not a nervous wreck and I’m not counting the days _or_ the hours, I promise.”

Unsurprisingly, his expert denial tactics were unsuccessful. Even just laughed at him again, shaking his head fondly before turning back to the oven where pasta was boiling on the stove. “-Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous.” He admitted. “It’s just this one scene. I can’t get the lines right, Ev. I mess up every time and there’s only two weeks to go and-”

“-baby, relax.” Even cut him off, lowering the fire and reaching up into the cupboard to grab some salt. “You’ve got this, and I’ve got you. You’re going to be amazing.”

Isak just pouted. “How could you possibly know that?” He muttered, more under his breath than to Even directly, but obviously, his boyfriend caught it. Even laughed softly, lifting the pan off the flame to strain the pasta in the sink.

“Because.” He smiled. “I know you and I know how amazing you are. And, don’t tell anybody but I’m also psychic- if that helps.”

“You’re psychic?” Isak raised an eyebrow. “That’s odd. We’ve known each other for what- eight, nine months? I feel like it would’ve come up in conversation at some point.”

Even turned around to look back at him, raising his eyebrows playfully and biting back a grin.

“I’m full of secrets, Isak. You haven’t even figured out the half of them.”

Isak, feeling admittedly a lot more reassured and a lot less stressed, was about to quip back with something playful and flirty (he _loved_ how even though they’d been together for months and lived together in their own apartment, Even still always found an excuse to flirt with him as if they were _dating_ ) when Even’s phone interrupted them, ringer shrill and loud. He watched as Even pulled the phone from his pocket, relaxed and happy expression falling into one of surprise, and distantly, concern.

“Everything okay?” Isak asked, frowning. Even looked up at him with a slightly forced smile.

“Yeah. Fine.” He nodded. “I should take this. Can you set out dinner?”

He didn’t give Isak time to reply, ducking underneath the too-low kitchen awning and closing the door behind him before either of them had a chance to say any more.

 

* * *

 

 

Even could feel the anxiety pulling and twisting in his gut when he read the name flashing on his phone screen. _Mikael_.

 _Fucking Mikael_.

He answered the phone as soon as the door was closed, immediately feeling guilty for closing Isak out so suddenly. It wasn’t his fault- it was a knee-jerk reaction to the very shocking information that his _ex_ -best friend, who he hadn’t spoken to in the better part of two years, was calling him. He was surprised Mikael hadn’t changed his number. He was surprised Mikael hadn’t deleted his.

“Uh, _Halla_?”

 _“Is that Even?”_ Mikael sounded the same. And not just in the way old friends do- voice laced with familiarity and comfort. Mikael sounded like he’d stepped out from a fucking portal linked straight to Even’s first third-year of high school, seconds before he’d stumbled headfirst into the discovery that he was bipolar, had an episode, switched schools, and left all his old friends behind. _“Halla?”_

“Uh- _Ja_. It’s me. I- uh… _Hei_ , I guess! Mikael. How are you?”

“ _I’m awesome_!” Mikael chirped. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound nearly as awkward or nervous or stuttering as Even was, phone trembling slightly in his grip as he did his best to keep his voice down so Isak wouldn’t overhear. The last thing he needed was questions. The mistakes Even had made in high school had haunted him for a long time- and one of the best things about meeting Isak, someone who had no idea who he was or what he had done, was that for once, he didn’t have to fucking explain himself. _“Faen- it’s been like, what, three years? Good to hear your voice, dude.”_

Even couldn’t help himself. He smiled. “Good to hear from you too, man. What’s up?”

 _“It’s the weirdest thing_ ,” Mikael began to talk, just from the tone of his voice Even could picture his exact facial expression- the quirk of his brow and the excitable grin. He wondered if Mikael’s hair was still shoulder length and silken, bouncing around his shoulders. He hoped so. _“I work for this film studio- have done since college. My boss had me look through a couple proposed scripts for him and I saw one with your name on it-”_

At that, Even’s heart stopped. He remembered the exact script. A year ago- back when he’d been cocky and self-assured and almost certain he was going to become a superstar director before the age of twenty, he’d submitted an early version of his screenplay to a studio in the hopes he’d be the next big thing. Now, one year and too many revisions to count later, he’d forgotten all about the slapdash, shaky, underdeveloped first draft of his masterpiece. He’d actually not thought about his screenplay much at all recently- instead putting most of his creative energy into his most recent project, a giant canvas painting of Isak he’d been working on day in, day out. Currently, it was resting on the easel in their living room next to the TV. Isak pretended it embarrassed him when their friends came over to poke fun, but Even knew that secretly, he was just as in love with it as Even was.

_“-it’s an animated film- a love story. It’s fucking awesome, honestly. I love the idea. I showed it to my boss and he really liked the look of it too. He wants to get in contact with you and talk about maybe making something of it.”_

Even’s jaw dropped.

“ _Even? Are you still there?”_

“Faen- yes! I’m still here! Oh my God… Mikael… I- I don’t know what to say. That’s amazing.”

 _“I always said you’d make it, Even_.” Mikael laughed softly. “ _I can’t believe it’s been three years. We should catch up. My boss wants to arrange a meeting and then… I don’t know. Maybe we could get coffee or something? Catch up?_ ”

“Of course!” Even exclaimed. “Honestly, I’m free whenever. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. I can’t fucking thank you enough.”

_“No problem. Friday after next sound good?”_

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t one of his best decisions, keeping the news from Isak. If anything, Even already had the fear of disappointment lurking in his mind- the last thing he wanted was to set Isak up for excitement on his behalf only for him to be dismissed from the studio with his bullshit screenplay tossed into a pile of fellow rejects. It’s _just a meeting_ , he told himself repeatedly, and despite the fact that Mikael being the assistant to the man who holds the key to his lifelong dreams gave him a considerable head start, Even was just a little too afraid to let himself fall victim to hope. He told Isak an old friend asked him out for coffee and left it at that. The last thing his boyfriend needed was something else to stress over.

The day rolled around far too quickly for Even’s liking. He was anxious and jittery as they ate dinner together, a few hours earlier than they normally would. Isak hadn’t questioned it when Even poked his food around the plate instead of eating it, but he was shooting suspicious glances across the table every so often when he thought Even wasn’t looking.

“If anyone should be nervous Even, it’s me.” he laughed awkwardly, and Even met his eyes, heart stopping. _Could_ Isak know what he was hiding? It wasn’t completely out of the question. For starters, he was too smart for his own good. Secondly, Isak seemed to know him better than anyone else, sometimes better than _himself_ in a non-suffocating, admirable way. Still, Even didn’t want to call his bluff on the off-chance he was lying and instead forced a smile, and reached for Isak’s hand over the table.

“You have nothing to be nervous about. You’re amazing.”

Isak’s cheeks flushed pink and he rolled his eyes, pulling his hand away and turning back to his food. It seemed to sate him for the rest of the meal, talking anxiously about his play and lines and scripts as Even wandered about inside his own frantic mind, repeatedly rehearsing exactly what it was he was planning to say to Mikael’s boss the minute they sat down and talked out the details face to face.

“Even?”

Even’s snapped his head up to look across at Isak, who had entered the living room with his backpack tossed over his back and a nervous smile on his face.

“I’ve got to get to the dress-rehearsal.” He said, eyebrows quirking excitedly. “But I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Even nodded, a little dazed. It sounded more like a question than a statement. _I’ll see you later, yeah_?

Of _course_ they would see each other later. Even would come home from his meeting to find Isak, worn out from hours of practice and rub his back, stroke his skin, spill all the anxieties he’d been keeping locked up over the past few days as the meeting loomed. Even relaxed slightly when Isak’s lips brushed against his cheek before his boy turned and bounced out the door, a little more excited than usual. Later, when he told Isak, _then_ he would certainly feel relieved. Even hated keeping secrets- but at this point in his life, it had sort of become second nature.

 

 

* * *

 

_Queasy_. Standing outside the meeting room with his latest draft clutched in his hand and necktie snug around his Adam’s apple, Even felt fucking queasy. The secretary had called his name three times in the lobby before he even heard her. That’s how fucking nervous he was.

Even stepped into the room, and the atmosphere was instantly relaxing. It seemed casual- Mikael’s boss stood up, leant against his desk with his hands tucked into his pocket, shirt unbuttoned slightly, ankles crossed. Mikael was spinning from side to side in a desk chair beside the desk, looking up at his boss with a smile before meeting Even’s eyes and flashing him that _Mikael_ grin- the one Even hadn’t seen for years and hadn’t possibly imagined seeing again. It still took his breath away, just a little bit.

“Even. Good to meet you! I’m Lars Meyer-”

“-Nice to meet you too, Mr Meyer.” Even shook his hand, and the executive grinned, squeezing back tightly.

“Please, Lars is fine. Take a seat.” He gestured to the two chairs side by side in front of the desk and Even did his best to relax in the one on the left side. Lars rounded his desk and took his seat as Mikael scooted over, resting his notes on the corner of the desk and shooting Even another winning smile. “So, Even.” Lars leant forwards, fingers pressed together. He looked exactly the way _all_ film executives looked- tall, blonde, handsome and threatening. “I looked at your script. Loved it-”

“-it’s an old draft.” Even shook his head. “Honestly, you don’t have to say-”

“-exactly.” Lars cut him off, grinning. “I don’t _have_ to say anything, because I’m the boss. I say whatever the fuck I want, right Mikael?”

Mikael grinned. “Right Lars.”

“So, believe me when I say that I loved this script. I’m really looking forward to seeing your revisions too, but even in this rough, piece-of-shit, two-year-old draft it’s clear to see that you have talent, Even.” He didn’t break eye contact for a second, didn’t blink, and his eyes were so dark- almost like Isak’s but _darker_ , nearly black- Even felt himself getting drawn further and further in. “Whatever _It_ is that they talk about… you’ve got it, kid. I’m really looking forwards to working with you, if you’re interested?”

If it could, Even’s jaw would’ve hit the floor. It was one thing, knowing yourself that you were good at something you enjoyed. It was another to be face to face with the kind of man who could make your wildest dreams come true and being _told_ , honestly and plainly speaking: _you are good at what you do_.

This must’ve been what Isak felt like when he got the part in the play after so many rejected auditions.

“I’m going to take Even’s stunned silence as a yes?” Mikael pitched in, trailing off as he raised an  eyebrow at a now startled and faintly embarrassed Even, who nodded meekly. Lars grinned.

“Perfect.” He said. “Now, let’s talk business.”

 

* * *

 

After the main chunk of his nerves caused by the meeting had dissolved into friendly chatter and banter and _business_ talk as he, Mikael and Lars poured over the pages of the revised script and set up another date to meet in a week’s time, Even felt just the beginning of butterflies in his stomach as he followed Mikael out of the building and out into the harsh winter night. The sky was completely black, stars far from visible due to the tall buildings and city lights that surrounded them. Still, Mikael floated through the back alleys and side streets with practiced ease, leading Even to a small coffee shop that was still open, a few customers lingering and one server standing bored behind the counter.

They both ordered a coffee and set off to the back of the shop, opposite each other in a small booth with brown leather seats, twin coffee cups staring at each other. Even didn’t know what to say- what really was the protocol when meeting face to face with someone you hadn’t seen since _high school_. Someone you hadn’t seen since- well- since you tried to kiss them and they rejected you and you convinced yourself that you were an abomination within the eyes of their religion, spilled said manic thoughts onto Facebook and then, after all that, crashed into depression and tried to-

Even winced slightly as the old memories gouged out of their neat confines in his mind and spilled out over his vision. So many fucking memories he had tried to _forget_ about- that moment his mother came into his room with nervous tears shining in her eyes to say that the school had called and told her what he’d said. Sitting in the shrink’s office versus his first ever psychiatrist for the first time, being told the definitions of _mania_ and _bipolar_ and other harsh, nasty words that made him feel like even more of an outsider than he already did.

It hadn’t ended well. He hadn’t seen Mikael or any of the others since.

Nervously, Even swallowed around his coffee. Mikael was still silent, brown eyes locked gazing into brown liquid, biting the corner of his lip anxiously. Even would have to say something. This was the way it always went with him and Mikael. He would have to make the first move.

“Mik, I-”

“-I’m sorry.” Mikael blurted out, blushing immediately at his haste, finally meeting Even’s eyes, which had widened a little in shock. He was slightly taken aback, which was understandable. Of all the things he wanted to hear- an apology wasn’t one of them. “High School- all that shit, making you think that you were... like… _wrong_ or whatever. It was stupid- worse than stupid. It was wrong and I’m so sorry. I think about it all the time and kick myself and wish I’d done more to make it right- especially after hearing you tried-”

“-it’s fine.” Even cut him off, not quite wanting to hear the admission from Mikael’s lips but at the same time impressed with the amount he remembered. If anything, Even expected to be a footnote in Mikael’s life history. A sort of- _hey, remember that Even guy? The one that went crazy? The gay one? Nah, me either_. But no- here they were, having coffee, Mikael spilling his guts. An apology. Even still wasn’t sure what for. “It wasn’t your fault… I was- I wasn’t well.”

“Sana said.” He nodded. “She said you… you tried-”

Even gritted his teeth. “To, uh, kill myself?” he finally forced the words out, swallowing thickly around his coffee as Mikael nodded meekly. “Yeah. I did but- it wasn’t… not because of you, it’s… God, it’s hard to explain. Back at Bakka… when I- went off the deep end, so to speak. I wasn’t… _in_ my right mind, so to say. I wasn’t aware of it until after when they diagnosed me but-”

“- _diagnosed_?”

Even nodded, albeit a little stiffly. “Look,” he said, staring down at the table so Mikael’s chocolate brown eyes couldn’t melt him anymore. “I’m just going to say it. I’m bipolar. When I lost it at Bakka I was having a manic episode. When I tried to kill myself I was having a depressive episode. They go together most of the time. All that stuff with- with _you_ and then the religious stuff… it was all just the mania. My brain just got like… fixated on this idea that didn’t make any sense but I couldn’t see that until I was out the other side. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t, your reaction was perfectly-”

“-my reaction was shitty, and we both know.” Mikael huffed, sounding more serious and mature than Even had _ever_ heard him sound. He was staring now, refusing to look away, not giving in to the opportunity to flash puppy dog eyes and a pout like he did when they were kids trying to keep out of trouble. “I freaked out and I shouldn’t have. I don’t have a problem with like… gay people or anything like that. I was just young and stupid and it’s not an excuse. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry. The other stuff… now that I know you’re bipolar, it does make a bit more sense. We were all so worried for you thinking you’d like… I don’t know. It’s whatever. I’m just glad you made it out okay.”

“The disappearing act probably didn’t help.” Even grimaced slightly. As a scared teenager with a whole new mental weight dropped on him, the easiest option had been to simply run and hide his head in the sand. He finished his third year as an independent student with a home-school tutor. He ignored his friends calls and texts, made Sonja swear not to let them in if they ever came knocking. He was embarrassed and scared and very much _alone_ in his head. It was stupid, in retrospect. A lot of things were. “I’m sorry, for that. I didn’t deal with the whole bipolar thing very well at the beginning and I was still freaking out about my sexuality and then me and Sonja started falling apart. It’s all ancient history now but… at the time, I was so fucking embarrassed and scared. I couldn’t face you guys.”

“You know we would’ve understood, right?”

“Maybe you would’ve. Maybe you wouldn’t’ve.” Even shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. Ancient history, like I said. Thank you for apologising and for getting me this fucking amazing opportunity-”

“-please, that was _all_ you. Your script is fucking amazing!”

“Yeah, but _you_ saw my name and passed it onto Lars.” Even sipped his coffee again, and somehow, it tasted slightly sweeter. He smiled around the rim of the cup. “Seriously, Mik. Thanks. I’m looking forwards to us working together.”

“Me too.” Mikael grinned. “So like… how have you been? Since high school and everything- what do you do, are you with anyone?”

“Yeah, I’m with someone.” Even said, and even _thinking_ of Isak, he couldn’t keep a straight face for a second. “His name is Isak, he’s an actor. We live together just twenty minutes or so from here.”

“Finally got rid of Sonja then?” Mikael smirked. Even rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“Just about. Fairly recently, actually. We weren’t… I don’t know. I think we just stayed together for the sake of staying together, and then I met Isak and I just… I knew I had to get out. ”

“So you’re like… _bisexual_?”

Even shrugged again. “I prefer _pansexual_ , which is just like… girls, boys, neither, whatever. I’m not bothered about people in terms of _gender._ If you’re hot, you’re hot, I guess, right?” he laughed, still a little nervous. Thankfully, Mikael didn’t even blink, beaming at him from across the booth as he finished the rest of his coffee, nodding along.

 _“Pansexual_.” He said, rolling the word around between his lips. “That’s a cool word. I’ve heard it before but never knew what it meant.”

“It’s me.” Even said, huffing a quiet laugh as he stared into his coffee and thought about Isak, probably waiting for him at home, curled up on the sofa, curious as to why he was home so late.

Thinking about it, Isak was probably worried. As they finished up with their coffee and paid, Even switched his phone back on and winced when he saw four missed calls from Isak in a row, along with a text reading _WHERE ARE YOU?!!!!-_

 Even replied as vaguely as possible, wanting to keep the news a surprise until he got home. Isak would probably be pissed, at first, but once he knew the truth Even knew he wouldn’t be able to fight the smile off his face. They’d have happy, celebratory sex and fall asleep curled up together under the sheets. Isak would be proud of him for getting a shot at his dream. He’d be so _fucking_ proud.

 

* * *

 

 

When Even got home, the flat was empty and silent.

“Isak?” he called, flicking on the lights, met only with their furniture, staring blankly back at him. “Baby, are you here?”

Isak wasn’t there. Frowning, Even tried calling him, but he didn’t answer. He sent a text- _where are you?_ \- but it went on unanswered. He bit his lip. There was a high chance Isak was so pissed about his initial lack of reply that he’d stormed off to see Jonas or Eskild or one of their other friends. Even did the standard ring-around, but nobody was answering. Not even _Magnus,_ and he was constantly glued to his phone.

So Even sat- half tempted to put out a missing person’s report for the entirety of their social circle as more and more calls went unanswered- and waited for Isak to get home.

He was still buzzing with energy, the high or the movie deal and making up with Mikael still tightening his gut. Realistically, he knew Isak couldn’t have been kidnapped. He was probably just pissed, and had demanded everyone else ignore Even too. There was probably a party or something- his brain had been itching all day, convinced he’d forgotten something. It was probably a party- he’d wait it out an hour or so, and if Isak still wasn’t answering, he’d traipse around to all their friend’s homes and find out what was going on for himself.

When the front lock clicked, Even sighed in relief. Isak stepped into the room with a flat expression, rehearsal back-pack clutched tightly in his hands. Even bounced up from the couch and rushed over to him, leaning in to drop a kiss at his lips. Isak tilted his head away.

“Baby- I’m sorry, I had my phone turned off. But- there’s a good reason for it, I promise!” he grinned. Isak didn’t meet his eyes.

“A good reason.” He scoffed. “What’s the good fucking reason, Even? Tell me. I’d really love to know.”

 _Okay…_ Even thought to himself, smile faltering slightly. _Okay,_ he thought, _He’s more pissed than I thought_.

“-Look, it’s going to sound crazy, but the other day somebody called me. An old friend, from high school, haven’t spoken to him in years and he works for this production company and he submitted my script to his boss. I went there for a meeting today-” even just _talking_ about it, recounting the memories of the evening he’d had, Even was grinning again, running a hand through his hair. “-Isak, baby, he wants _my_ script. He wants to make my movie- can you believe it?!”

Finally, Isak dragged his eyes up to meet Even’s. Tears shone behind thick brown lashes, but Isak was stubborn. He wouldn’t dare show weakness by letting them fall. Even’s face fell.

“Isak?” he asked softly, reaching forwards to touch the top of Isak’s arm, but his boyfriend pulled away, lips pressed together in a thin line. “What’s wrong? Where have you been- I tried to call, but nobody was answering. Eskild, Jonas, Magnus-”

“- _yeah_ , because they all _came_.” Isak’s voice was strained, almost a sob. “They came and you fucking didn’t.”

“I don’t under-” Even cut himself off, mid-sentence. Isak’s eyes were still wet, locked with his, but he refused to cry. His chest was heaving, skin flushed with anger. Even stared at him, looked down at his rehearsal bag and back up again. Of course, Isak didn’t answer his phone. Nobody would’ve been able to answer a phone call.

Theatre policy.

“-Isak, _fucking hell_ \- I’m _so_ sorry, I swear-”

“-Forget it.” Isak held a hand up, cutting him off. He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. When Even tried to speak again, he interrupted. “-Stop.” He said.  “The damage is already done, Even. I’m too fucking tired to argue. Standing there on stage… looking at that fucking empty seat-”

“ _Isak-_ ”

“- _Nei_. You don’t get to talk.” Isak told him, eyes brimming with tears now. A brave one fell, and Even wanted to reach out to catch it, but he knew if he tried to touch Isak again, when he was _this_ angry (and quite rightly so) he’d end up hurting him more. “Just leave me alone. I’m going to bed. Don’t fucking follow me.”

He turned and fled down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind him. Even bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and groaned, before running his hands over his face in absolute despair. He’d forgotten- he’d _fucking forgotten_. It was Isak’s _opening night_ , and he’d _fucking forgotten._

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into the darkness, knowing Isak was too far and too angry to hear. “Isak. I’m so fucking sorry. You have no fucking idea. I’m so, _so_ sorry.”


	7. Part Seven: MAI (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months have passed since Even let Isak down. Even goes on a business trip and plans an elaborate surprise. However, Isak ends up being the one who surprises him.
> 
> (part one of two)

_ Part Seven: MAI (1/2) _

__

 

 

Isak snapped the laptop shut when he heard the distinctive jingle of Even’s keys turning in the lock. He pushed all the guilt that bubbled in his chest far down to the pit of his stomach and did his best to smile when Even bounced into the room, greeting him with a brief kiss that quickly spiralled into something deeper. Even either didn’t notice the tension in Isak’s stiff shoulders or just didn’t want to- hands wandering around Isak’s hips and pulling them closer together. It was the kind of kiss Isak knew Even used to make him feel lost with. Isak didn’t lose himself quite so easily anymore.

Secrets are the main killers of any relationship. Isak wasn’t stupid, he knew this, but he also knew that there wasn’t a single conceivable universe in which breaking this news to Even wouldn’t result in an immediate, devastating explosion. Instead, life was a lot easier like _this_ \- Even’s lips peppering kisses around his jawline, hands gripping tighter around his skin, physically holding his secrets in.

Since the play had run its course, Isak had felt himself drifting. Even was irritatingly helpful- always looking around online for audition postings and printing out the ones he thought Isak might like, leaving them on the kitchen table for Isak to see when he dragged himself out of bed for a shift at KB. As soon as his back was turned, Isak took the printed sheets of paper and crumpled them without reading. When Even asked how the auditions went, Isak just smiled and shrugged and said he was keeping his fingers crossed. It wasn’t Even’s fault- he just couldn’t bring himself to be disappointed. He’d already had his shot at a _big break_. The _play_ was supposed to be his chance at stardom that instead it came and went like a flurry of snow: four weeks in a relatively backstreet theatre company pulling in no more than a few hundred audience members per night. As quickly as it started, it was over. He’d done it more for the exposure than the miniscule pay-check, but ever since the closing performance, his phone had been unsurprisingly silent. Not even Eva had any new opportunities for him- just the same old industry parties and half-assed background roles. The only thing that had changed in the world was Isak’s interest level.

He needed something new in his life. Ignoring the elephant in the room that was his and Even’s relationship, Isak was hungry for something new to change his life. Dreams, so it seemed, really were just for children and the stupidly lucky, and Isak knew that if he was going to get on with his life, he was going to have to switch paths to something a little more practical.

So he’d applied to university. No big deal- just a fairly prestigious, highly sought after university college that ranked top twenty five in the world for biomedicine. A university.

A university in London.

After _The Incident_ , he’d gone back and forth on the idea of _his_ future- _their_ future- _whatever_. Of course, it was more than tempting to push the heartbreak out of his mind and pretend like nothing was wrong. It was equally tempting to shout and scream and never look Even in the face again. Realistically, Isak knew that neither of these incidences would be possible. He couldn’t just forget how badly Even had hurt him. He couldn’t keep away from him either.

Even certainly didn’t make it any easier for him. He made _The Incident_ up to him in every way possible. Even bought him a helicopter tour for two over the city at night and Even bought him a new pair of sneakers every Friday for a month. Even left lengthy _I’m Sorry_ notes around the apartment in places he knew Isak would eventually find them and Even cooked him breakfast every morning and made worshipped his body until his vision went white every night. On top of all that, Even bought a ticket and went along to _every single performance_ Isak had until the show closed. Even brought flowers to his dressing room after every show and wrote a four paragraph long Instagram caption proclaiming his love and saying _just how proud_ he was when the shows run was over.

Isak had cried a little reading that post over to himself for maybe the eighth time, moments before pressing _submit_ on his university application. As soon as he’d touched the mouse, he exited the browser and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t bother waiting to see if the application had submitted successfully. He didn’t wait around for a confirmation email or an acceptance letter. He had just sent the application off and done his best not to think about it every single day since. The only other soul that knew about it was Jonas and he’d been reluctantly sworn to secrecy.

“You’re fucked.” Jonas had told him, and Isak didn’t have the heart nor the solid ground to argue with him.

 _I’m sorry_ , Isak wanted to say to Even. _It still hurts,_ he thought every day when he watched Even wake up in the morning because he’d been struggling with insomnia again and spent most of his nights awake, eyes red and burning. _I forgive you_ , he’d said instead- unable to stomach the flowers and the love notes and the gifts anymore because the guilt was wrapping itself around his ribs and stomach like paperweights and pulling him into the ground.

He didn’t know if Even had believed it when he accepted the final apology, told through shining teary eyes as they walked home in the snow from the shows closing night, a bouquet the size of his chest cradled in Isak’s arms. After that, the showering of gifts finally stopped, and they both did their best to make things somewhat _normal_ again. Isak wasn’t sure if they were both pretending or if it was just him and Even really had moved on- but clearly neither of them had the courage to prod. It was like their relationship had become something fragile and fleeting, and both were too scared to let go for a second, just in case they ended up falling apart.

And then, underneath it all, more than guilt Isak felt _angry_.

He hated how dark and heavy he felt inside, but despite how much he forced it down, Isak was still _so fucking angry_ with Even. Thoughtful, loving, heart-on-his-sleeve Even who had made him feel alive for the first time in forever and showed him what _love_ was- had taken his heart and burst it between his fist, smiling with blood splattered on his shirt, completely oblivious. Isak relived the night of _The Incident_ in his head most nights of the week, and in reliving it the anger _still_ hadn’t dissipated. The anger that poisoned him swirled inside his chest along with the glowing love that still hadn’t left despite everything every single time he looked in Even’s eyes.

At least that wasn’t such a problem anymore. The amount of time Even spent in the apartment had drastically dwindled in favour of time in the _studio_ with _Mikael_ trying to get _their movie_ (the movie that Isak could’ve sworn used to be _Even’s movie_ ) off the ground. Every time he thought of _Mikael_ and his stupid soft brown skin and pretty, flouncy hair and cheeky, innocent smile and the way Even’s eyes lit up when he looked at him- Isak wanted to growl. Even had this weird, faraway fond look reserved only for Mikael that Isak had never seen before, and _yeah_ , he was _jealous_.

Isak was happy for him. Somewhere, inside, he _really_ was. It just _hurt_ having to watch someone else live their dream whilst his own crumbled.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Isak looked at the painting, a distorted reflection of himself that was just a little too perfect, still laid half-finished in their living room. He supposed to a stranger, it could be anyone’s slender back and dipped shoulder-blades. To anyone that knew them- one glance of the tell-tale blonde curls brushing the nape of the subject’s neck and it was pretty damn clear who the muse was.

“I’m finishing it soon, I promise.”

Isak flinched when Even’s voice suddenly appeared behind him, hands coming down to settle on his shoulders.

“Hei, Even.”

“Halla baby,” he sounded happy- Even _always_ sounded happy when returning from the studio with Mikael. Isak bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and hoped his internal grimace wasn’t too noticeable. “Sorry,” Even mumbled into the side of his head. “Writer’s room ran late. We’re so close to finding the perfect close to the second third. I can feel it.” he squeezed gently, running his hands up a little closer to Isak’s neck, thumbs pressing into his back.

“It’s okay.” Isak replied quietly, closing his eyes and smiling as Even nuzzled into his neck, tilting his head to give him more access. Despite everything, he still loved everything about _this_ , Even’s soft lips and his hot breath and his big, pretty hands. Did that make him a bad person? He enjoyed himself plenty when Even was making him feel good, and despite that being selfish, Isak felt like he’d maybe earned the right to be so.

“I missed you today.” Even whispered against his skin, kissing up the side of his face and wrapping one arm against his waist. “I miss you every day.”

“Sure you do.” Isak drawled, unable to resist a slight dig in an easy opening. Even didn’t seem to notice, far too busy tucking his thumbs into the waistband of Isak’s jeans and transitioning from soft kisses to small nips at his flesh, leaving a trail of pink marks in his wake.

“Beautiful.” Even told him. “My beautiful. I love you, Isak.”

In that moment, Isak was happy Even had his face buried into his neck and therefore couldn’t see the way his own expression dropped. He closed his eyes and frowned tightly.

“I love you too.” He said, swallowing thickly.

 

* * *

 

 

Even grinned to himself as he walked through the airport, spotting the driver Lars had sent for him and Mikael standing amongst the sea of people with a sign reading _Bech Næsheim_. Mikael rolled his eyes when Even winked at him and gestured to the sign with his thumb. They’d made a bet about the amount of movies Leonardo DiCaprio had made with Scorsese and (albeit surprisingly, Mikael was a Scorsese _fanatic_ and Even preferred a directing style that was a little less sharp) Even had won. So _his_ name got to be on the sign.

This was not, however, why he was so excited.

Of course, there was the fact that being away in Sweden for the past five days had been _incredibly_ successful, and he and Mikael had managed to win over the financers they needed to get their movie a considerable shot at actual production. Sweden as well was particularly beautiful, and Even had made note to visit again, hopefully with Isak in tow.

Isak was the reason he was so happy. Isak was _always_ the reason he was so happy.

Initially, he was due to be in Sweden for a week. It had been quite a long time since he and Isak had been apart for more than a few days. The last time being after _The Incident_ , when Isak randomly took a trip to Bergen for four days straight and ignored all his calls and after his quiet return, they never spoke of it again.

They’d finished up in Sweden two days early- but instead of calling Isak excitedly and promising to bring exciting gifts back from duty-free shopping in the airport- Even decided to keep his return a surprise. His and Isak’s relationship had finally started to feel like it was getting back on track after they’d well and truly fallen _off_ the wagon, rolled down a steep hill and been thrown to the dogs. They’d been through the rough patch to end all rough patches but _finally_ , there was a light at the end of the revolting tunnel. Even’s heart had ached with guilt for months and he missed the way things were between them before he’d so carelessly ruined it all in one single night.

With this, he hoped to finally repair things for good.

Isak was out at work when he made it back to the apartment, so Even got to work straight away cooking a ridiculously elaborate dinner. They had a roasted chicken, potatoes, grilled vegetables, sautéed mushrooms- at one point he’d even considered cooking salmon to go along as an alternate entrée- but he only had three and a half hours before Isak would return home so he decided against it. It was the most effort Even had put into a meal _ever,_ and by the time he was putting his finishing touches on the feast, his hands ached. It was worth it though, for the surprise that would surely light up on Isak’s face when he saw it. at least, Even hoped so. He didn’t want to think much about it, but he knew that this would be one of the last chances to inject that _Isak-og-Even-minutt-for-minutt_ magic into their relationship.

He routed through the cupboards looking for the gravy granules, knowing Isak would likely be home in the next ten minutes and the gravy would still be hot when he walked through the door. He routed around behind cans of possibly expired random foods that he felt everyone with a lived-in enough home seemed to collect for no reason, and frowned when his fingers brushed against a piece of paper.

“What the…” he mumbled to himself under his breath, pulling out what seemed to be a letter. It was an ordinary enough envelope, at first, until Even turned it over in his hands and saw the seal marked in the corner of the paper.

 _University of London, Group_.

Even frowned. He knew the ‘University of London’ was just a collective name for the many separate universities in London. It still didn’t make sense that they would be sending a letter to Isak. A letter that hadn’t yet been opened.

 _It’s probably just spam_. He said to himself. _You shouldn’t open it. it’s an invasion of privacy. It’s illegal. Isak would be really-_

The slightest corner of the envelope ripped as he turned it over in his hands again, and Even figured if he’d gone this far, he may as well go all the way.

 _I’m a terrible person_ , he thought, quickly yanking the letter out of the envelope and folding it open. _Piece of shit, reading Isak’s mail. What is this- Dear Isak Valtersen? This isn’t spam. They don’t address spam to you directly why the fuck would the university of London be writing to Isak-_

His warbled panic-thoughts stilled when Even began to read the letter.

 

 

_Dear Isak Valtersen,_

_Congratulations! This is a letter to confirm your acceptance by your first choice university, University City London (UCAS CODE UCL). The information listed below should inform you in terms of da-_

 

 

Even dropped the letter without reading farther, and on its own accord, his hand curled into a fist. He rested it down on the kitchen counter. He wanted to yell, or maybe smash something. Isak hadn’t told him. It took months to apply and be accepted into university, especially being a foreign student. But despite all that time that must’ve passed, Isak _hadn’t told him_.

Hearing the key turn in the lock, Even folded up the letter and tucked it into the front pocket of his apron before tossing a few gravy granules into the pot of water he’d left bubbling on the hob. For now, he’d have to suppress his anger. He’d been away for a week. Perhaps Isak had used the time to think over how absolutely _insane_ he was being by not telling Even he’d applied to a university almost a thousand miles away. Perhaps he was getting ready to _tell_ Even the moment he arrived home. Even gritted his teeth hearing Isak’s curious footsteps in the hallway along with the short sniff of the air as he noticed the smell of the food floating around the room. He turned around when Isak walked into the kitchen and forced himself to smile.

“Surprise.” He said, and Isak genuinely looked surprised, blinking in disbelief a few times before choking out a startled- _hei_ , rushing over to wrap Even in a tight hug. He laughed, kissing Even chastely and Even kissed back, doing his best not to start yelling before they had a chance to even say _hello_.

“I can’t believe it. You’re back early?”

“I’m back early.” Even nodded, turning back to stir at his gravy so he wouldn’t have to look Isak in the eyes. “I wanted to surprise you with dinner.” He gestured to the table, and he didn’t have to look around because he could practically _hear_ the way Isak was smiling as he approached, marvelling at the spread Even had put out.

“I can’t believe it.” Isak sounded genuinely happy, for the first time in so long, it broke Even’s heart to know that he finally was getting what he wanted but it was tarnished with so much darkness and anger. “Baby, seriously. Thank you!”

Even brought the gravy over as a finishing touch and poured it into the silly porcelain gravy boat painted to look like an actual boat he’d brought home from a thrift store last time he was manic. It was a slightly more amusing side to what was, for both of them, a painful memory.

Even looked over the feast he’d prepared as he took a seat opposite Isak at the table and draped his apron over the back of his chair, knowing what still lurked in the front pocket. He didn’t even feel hungry anymore, which was irritating, because he’d been starving earlier after an unsatisfactory meal on the plane yet had abstained from snacking whilst cooking because he wanted to enjoy the meal whilst starting at Isak’s stupidly pretty face and fixing their battered hearts. Now, it felt like a stone had been dropped in his stomach, silently watching Isak tuck in to the meal he’d spent so long preparing.

“You okay?” Isak asked around a mouthful of mushrooms. “ _Faen_ , these are to die for. Are you not having any?”

“I… I am.” Even nodded. He poked at one of the few mushrooms he’d left on his plate and hadn’t touched since. “I…” he stopped himself before he could give anything away, taking a slow breath. Now, Isak was staring at him. He’d figured something was wrong. Even would have to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Isak.” He breathed. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Hm?” Isak hummed, taking a sip from his wine. “No? Why? What’s wrong?”

Even could feel his hand curling into a fist again. He really didn’t want to lose his temper today, but he knew, after this, it was likely to be inevitable.

“Ev?” Isak blinked, now distracted from his own food. Even stared at the table and sighed, again. _What a waste_ , he thought to himself. _What a fucking waste_.

“I’m talking about this.” Even sat up in his seat and reached behind him for the apron, slipping the letter from the front pocket. He tossed it across the table uncaringly and it landed unceremoniously on top of the bowl of potatoes that sat between them. Isak stared at the letter like a deer caught in the fucking headlights of a truck, frozen and silent. “Your fucking acceptance letter into UCL.” Even practically _spat_ , leaning forwards. “When were you going to tell me about that, Isak?”

Isak blinked, just once, slower than usual. He took in a breath and then snatched the letter from the table, reading it over briefly once. Even didn’t miss the way his eyes widened slightly when he saw the word _congratulations!_ Despite the situation, Isak didn’t even have the fucking decency not to look please, albeit only for a second.

“You fucking read my mail?” he asked with an accusatory glare, dropping the letter to the floor. “Even what the _fuck-_ ”

“-No, you do _not_ get to be angry about me reading your mail!” Even interrupted, standing up from his seat and forcing out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Isak, you fucking applied to go to school in _London_ and you didn’t tell me about it?!”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t… I- It wasn’t for definite, it was just an option-”

“Yeah? Just an option? Is that why you were hiding the letter in the fucking cupboard? You’re telling me you didn’t feel guilty?”

“ _Even_.” Isak huffed, in that patronizing, I-can-talk-down-to-whoever-I-want-because-I-feel-insecure bitchy _Isak_ kind of way. “It was just an _option._ I wasn’t even sure myself if-”

“-and what about now?” Even took a step forwards, cutting Isak off. Isak flinched as he did, sitting up in his chair, stiff as a board. “Huh? Congratu- _fucking_ -lations, Isak, you got accepted. So _what_ are you going to do? You’re not actually going, are you?”

Isak, being the coward that he was, looked away from Even. He stared at the letter that had been left, abandoned on the table along with their dinner. He took a deep shaky breath.

“Even. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He muttered, and Even felt his heart sink. It dropped past his stomach, sat heavy in his gut, making his body tingle.

“I’m making this hard.” He said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as choked up as it felt. “You kept this from me, for _months-_ ”

“-Oh yeah, and When would I get to tell you?” Isak snapped, looking back at him with glossy, angry eyes. “You’re never fucking around anyway!” he pointed, accusingly, and Even spat out a scoff.

“Oh, so _that’s_ what this is all about?”

“You’re always off doing stuff for your movie with your fucking high-school crush Even, how do you think that makes me feel?”

Even gritted his teeth, but it didn’t help. His hands were shaking it how angry he felt. He couldn’t even look at Isak’s face anymore without wanting to scream. He took a step back and turned around to face the oven instead, fingers turning white as he gripped the granite counter. “Mikael and I are _friends-_ ” he started to say, but sensing his opportunity to gain the upper hand, Isak cut him off with the scraping of his chair as he stood up.

“So fucking what?” he growled. “If it was the other way around, you wouldn’t be mad?!”

“Be mad?” Even finally yelled, spinning around to face his boyfriend. “I let you hang out with Jonas, don’t I?”

Isak’s jaw dropped, and for a second, Even forgot the anger and felt smugness creeping up on him. Perfect, fleeting smugness. He’d hit Isak, right where it hurt, and it felt _good_ , knowing he’d caught him off guard. There was a few seconds of silence as Isak tried to summon some kind of response that wasn’t a well-deserved punch to Even’s face.

“You _LET_ me?” he eventually spat. “Even what the _fuck_?”

“You’re twisting my words trying to get away from the real issue here!” Even glared at him, shaking his head. “You fucking lied to me Isak, for months. You are a _liar_.”

“Alright!” Isak screamed, and even could’ve sworn he felt the room shake. Nervously, he swallowed thickly and watched Isak run his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I _lied_ ,” he admitted, a little tearful, but still writhing in anger. “I lied because I _knew_ that your reaction would be like this. You can’t fucking _resist_ a giant drama, can you Even? I’m sorry that this doesn’t run perfectly like one of your fucking scrips, but this isn’t a movie. This is our _life_.”

Isak’s words hurt, but Even did his best to keep a brave face. He was stood, ridged, staring Isak down from across the room. He sighed, dropping his shoulders slightly, before crossing his arms across his chest. “I just can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me.” he said, no longer in the mood to shout. The anger was starting to fade into a bitter, aching disappointment. However, for some reason, Isak had seemed to go in the other direction, and looked more angry than ever. “I mean, what where you going to do Isak?” He forced a smile. “Sneak out and move to London in the middle of the night?” he laughed, but it was caught up with the sob in the back of his throat that was threatening to leap out. “How could you do that to me?”

Isak didn’t even blink. His eyes were locked on Even’s, and after a few tense seconds, one tear spilt over the edge and fell onto his cheek with a silent _splash_.

“How could you fucking forget my opening night?” he said. Even hung his head.

“So you are still mad about that-”

“-of _course_ I’m still mad, Even.” Isak sounded exasperated, and another few stray tears escaped the prison of his heavy eyelashes, making his face damp. “You fucking broke my heart. I was finally getting a chance to follow my dream and you ripped my heart out the second I stepped out on stage and saw your seat was empty.”

“Isak I’m _sorry_.” Even groaned, rubbing his hands over his face, exhausted from the argument despite the fact they’d only been at it for ten minutes. Despite that, it didn’t feel like they were ever going to make it to an amicable conclusion. Even hated arguing with Isak- but at least, usually, he had the making up portion of events to look forward to. They’d slink away to sulk for a few hours before creeping out into the neutral territory of the kitchen to apologise. They’d laugh, remembering how worked up they’d been only a few hours before. Even would wrap Isak in his arms and hug him tightly, kiss his cheek, tell him they’d never fight again- and even if neither of them believed it, it was comfort. This time, however, Even couldn’t foresee such an event in their immediate future. He ran his hands over his face.

“I’ve told you that I am sorry so many times and I don’t know what else it is you want me to say to make it right.”

Isak sighed and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Even.” He whispered, reaching up to wipe the wet spots on his cheeks with the palm for his hands. “That was the last chance I had at my dream and now the memory of it is ruined forever.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know that.” Isak nodded, avoiding Even’s eye. “But I’m still sad. It kills me every fucking day- especially now I see you out with Mikael every day getting your fucking dream movie made.” He gave a bitter laugh, throwing up his hands. “You’re more obsessed with the fucking movie than you are with me!”

Even looked up at him then, gaze darkening slightly. “That’s because it’s my fucking dream, Isak-”

“Yeah, well I’ve grown up Even.” Isak snapped, frown returning to his soft face. “I’ve stopped dreaming, you know?”

His words didn’t give much away, but all Even could think was that they sounded awfully final. His heart was starting to feel tight in his chest and something heavy and foreboding was sitting in his empty stomach. The way Isak looked- so dejected and tired and unable to look him in the face for longer than a second- it made him nervous. He didn’t know what to expect from him next.

So, voice shaking, he asked- “What’s that supposed to mean?”- and swallowed thickly, anticipating the answer. Isak frowned, folded his arms tightly over his chest.

“You know, I wasn’t sure before but now I am.” He said tearfully, staring down at the full table beside them. He took a step towards the door and Even couldn’t help but follow him, just for a step, reaching out despite the fact he knew Isak wouldn’t think twice before slapping his hand away.

“Isak, wait-”

“Nei.” He shook his head, finally looking back to Even and laughing once, making Even’s chest ache. He smiled, even thought it looked as if his heart was breaking then and there. He lingered in the doorway. “I’m going to London and getting a degree. Have a nice fucking life, Even.” And with that, he disappeared around the corner, and Even heard the bedroom door slam.

He didn’t wait a second for the news to sink in. he abandoned the table and raced after Isak, down the hall and reached for their bedroom door, but Isak had locked it. Even could hear the sounds of Isak routing through their shared closet and the unzipping of a bag, as if he was just going to pack his life up there and then. Even’s heart was hammering inside his chest, panic rising as he tried to open the door again, before pounding on it with his fist.

“Isak!” he called. “Isak, please! Stop acting like a child.”

“Just leave it, Even.” Isak called back, and Even didn’t need to see him to know there were tears in his eyes. “I’m fucking… I’m going to stay at Jonas’ for a few days and then I’m taking all the cash I have and buying a fucking plane ticket.”

“Don’t do this, Isak-” Even pleaded, but he doubted at this point in the turn of events, Isak was up to listening.

“Long distance never works, right.” Isak forced a bitter laugh, suddenly closer, and within seconds of the lock clicking, Even found himself face-to-face with his own worst nightmare. Isak had his hoodie zipped up all the way to his neck, hood up over his brow, a fat duffel bag hanging off his shoulder. “-“-so,” he muttered, avoiding Even’s eye, gaze fixed on the floor.. “we may as well just call this now, right?”

Despite every primal urge inside him screaming _just pick him up and throw him back in the room until he wants to work this out_ , Even took a step back so Isak could pass. He watched Isak walk down the hallway and pause at their front door, shoulders shaking slightly. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want Even to see him cry.

“Don’t do this, Isak.” He repeated with a flat whisper. Isak sniffed, fingers curling around the door handle.

“Good luck with your movie, Even.” He said, and then the door closed tightly behind him.


End file.
